A Singer's Story
by Stanleylouis
Summary: Set in 1852 with the Moulin Rouge characters, Lady Charlotte Heatherford is soon to marry a rich and loving Duke. But what happens when a mysterious, handsome man saves her from a river and shows her a life and love that she never knew existed?
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! I'm Stanleylouis. This is my third Moulin Rouge story, and I hope you enjoy it!**

**This will be a long explanation, because I have to tell you who all of the characters are and everything. Sorry! ;)**

**This is a Moulin Rouge story set in Victorian times (1852), and because of this I had to change the names around a little bit. Here they are.**

***Satine- Lady Charlotte Heatherford**

***Christian- Christian (couldn't change the name because it's so awesome!)**

***The Duke- Duke Simon Trinton (In this story he's good)**

***Harold Zidler- Lord Henry Heatherford**

***Marie- Lady Mary Heatherford**

**These are all of the people I have so far in the story, and I'll tell you about any others.**

**This is going to be a Satine POV, with a couple of passages from Christian.**

**Most of the facts that you read in this story are true, and all of the others I just didn't feel like looking up and just gave it my best shot. :) Enjoy! And please review!**

**(Also, this chapter is longer than most of them will be. I just wanted to introduce you to the characters.) **

_Chapter 1_

Sunlight is falling in through my window as I open my eyes slowly, letting sleep linger as long as it can. The soft down blankets of my bed hold me, pulling me back to my dreams. Blinking my eyes sleepily, my beautiful room swims around me: papered walls, with lovely rose petals falling gently through the air; a plush carpet, soft and thick; expensive windows framed with light wood with rosy-soft curtains hanging loosely away from the window, already opened by a servant I had not heard come in.

Sighing in contentment, I slowly draw myself up from my soft pillow, my loose hair falling down my back in auburn waves. My hair is one of my most prominent features; instead of dull brown or overdone blonde hair, my russet curls, held high and framing my face in the latest fashion, brought everyone's eyes to me. Along with my pale skin, defined features, sharp eyebrows, and perfect body, I was interesting, beautiful, and glamorous. I could have any man I wanted, for they all fell down before me.

I didn't want any man, though. I only wanted Simon.

Just thinking about him made me sigh in pleasure. I had found true love with him. My mother and father, although kind and considerate to me, had always been strong believers of marrying for power, not love. I flatly refused this notion. The only way I would marry would be through love, and that had found me, through Simon, Duke of Harrisburg.

We had met at a dinner party, and been enchanted by each other: Simon, his golden-blonde hair falling over his shoulders, his smile easy and breathtaking; while I, Lady Charlotte Heatherford, drew every eye in the room, my hair drawn up on top of my head, ostrich quills stuck elegantly in the bundle, my dress a beautiful scarlet lace with an appealing collar and bedazzlement in the front. All of my clothes were fresh from Paris, the height of fashion.

It was love at first sight.

Now, a half year later, I was 17, and about to become the new Duchess of Harrisburg. Even if we hadn't been a perfect match, Simon and I would have been together, our love only growing as the days passed. I could never think of being with anyone but him.

Sarah, one of our servants, comes in with a smile on her face. I smile back. Ever since childhood, Sarah had been a great companion of mine, just like all of the other staff. Although I couldn't now, I had spent my childhood downstairs, helping the cook with food, following the maids around in their chores. As I grew up, I could spend less and less time this way, but I still knew all of the servants by name and greeted them warmly.

Walking over to my dressing area, Sarah began the long and arduous process of dressing me. My soft undergarments rubbed against my skin to protect it from the heavy material that was piled on top: my petticoat, light and plain; a corset made of whale-bone, pressing on my chest until I could barely breathe; hooping and skirts that weighed me down and added layers to my gown. My hair was done-up with countless pins and ribbons, weighing down on my head like a huge rock. My gown today was of a gold satin billowing around me, giving me a gleaming figure, and the opening at the front of the dress revealed shiny ruffles that billowed down. My sleeves were loose with lacing at the ends, while my shoes, although hidden, were the same color as the gown. I had on a beautiful silver necklace with diamond droplets in my ears, and, for a finishing touch, a huge hat, tipped slightly to the side, with piles of silk and a wide brim, a giant feather resting at the top.

I was ready for my day.

Taking my way down the steps, I came to the first floor, and I hear voices from the dining hall. Walking through the high archway, I see the table laid out with breakfast dishes, and three figures. The first two are my mother and father, who look up to me smiling, as I enter the room, but the third is the one that catches my attention: Simon, his head bent and listening to my parents, until he hears me and looks up with such a brilliant smile it takes my breath away. I give out a small, happy gasp as he lifts himself easily out of his chair and strides toward me, taking me into his arms and leaning down to give me a light kiss on the lips. I smile too, looking up into his beautiful eyes, just inches above mine.

"Good morning, Miss Charlotte. You are looking exquisite today." I love how lightly his lips move as he says this, as he kisses me on the forehead and takes my hand in both of his. "Come. You must be hungry."

As I eat my breakfast, my eyes trained happily on Simon, he explains what he was doing there. Because we were only fiancés, I still lived in my parent's house until the wedding. Then, we would be able to share everything together.

"I'm to escort you to an afternoon party today, at Lady Meddlebow's." Simon's eyes are gleaming as he says this, and I was sure that my parents already knew of the arrangement. They were smiling at our happy faces, enjoying our relationship together. I had found the perfect husband without them even having to push me.

I nod at what he's saying, not caring much, as long as we were together for the afternoon.

~*~

"So, Lady Heatherford, when is the wedding planned for?"

We are sitting at a white iron tea table, drinking green tea from delicate china cups. There are only a few of us, two women, Simon, and I. Simon is being completely generous, sitting and chatting with us, an easy smile on his lips. He's holding my hand in his lap, and I love it there. Once or twice we catch glances of each other, and we would hold each other's gazes lovingly.

"In about three months." I smile daintily, a rush of happiness flowing through me at the thought. Just three short months until I was Duchess Trinton, until Simon and I were bound together with the powers of marriage. Just the thought of what was to come made me blush with excitement: the thought of sharing his household, hosting his guests, and bearing his children.

'I can not wait! It will be the event of the year! You are planning to have it here, I hope?"

"Oh yes, we want all of our friends and family here to see it." I turn and give Simon a dazzling smile while he squeezes my hand, but I see a slight strain in his features.

"Darling, what's wrong?" I bring my free hand up to touch his jaw, my face filled with concern. All eyes are on him as he blushes under the stares.

"No, nothing is the matter. My stomach is just ailing me. Lady Meadowbow, would you mind it terribly if I took a short walk in your woods? It might do me well."

"No, not at all! There is a pathway over there, leading into the woods. It is very nice and quiet in there, or so I hear. Only, don't go too far, or else you might come to the common part of town on the other side." Lady Meadowbow wrinkled up her nose at this, as Simon, with a kiss to my hand and a thank-you to the host, got up and walked over to the forest which soon swallowed him up.

I tried to go back to the conversation, but my mind was distracted, wondering about Simon. Was he all right? What was ailing him? Finally, I took my napkin out of my lap and spoke to Lady Meadowbow.

I'm sorry, but can I go look for Simon? I am very worried about him."

"But, my dear-out in the woods? _Walking?_" The ladies looked flabbergasted at this prospect, but I just shook my head.

"Once I find him I will be back. I won't be long." With that, I gracefully get out of my seat and take the same route that Simon had, into the forest.

**~*~**

As I walk I think about many things: Simon, the wedding, the new title I'll be getting, my life. All of these things make me happy. I have my one true love, the wedding of my dreams, becoming a Duchess, and still at only 17, with a lifetime to spend with Simon. Somehow, though, something still felt wrong, but what? Everything was going my way. I could possible be the happiest person in the world. But there was still something bothering me…

Looking up, I felt a sudden sense of terror when I realized that I had no idea where I was. I had been so lost in thought that I had wandered off a stray path, and now when I turned around I couldn't see where I was. The light, peaceful forest now seemed dangerously normal, each snap of the branches or bird trill sending my heart racing.

What was I doing out here? I was a lady, someone who was better suited for sitting through tea parties than hiking through the woods. Why hadn't I just let Simon come back himself?

"_There was a boy…"_

I stand still, enchanted by the voice, as well as frightened. It seemed to have come from my left, but I didn't know what direction that was. It was a man's voice, and a far distance away, but I couldn't help but take a step towards the voice.

"Hello?" I called out, but there was no answer. I wondered for a moment if it had just been my imagination, until the voice came again.

"_A very strange, enchanted boy…"_

The man's voice was beautiful, like rich honey. The song sounded contemplative, like a story, with a haunting tint to the words. I didn't recognize the voice, but then again, why would I?

"_They say he wandered very far…very far…"_

"Hello?" I call out again, slightly louder, but there is still no answer. I make a choice and begin to walk towards the sound.

"_Over land and sea…"_

Why was someone singing in the woods? I felt a strange pull to the voice, even though the circumstances were strange. Who was the singer?

"_A little shy, and sad of eye,_

_but very wise, was he…"_

I quicken my pace, even though I have no idea why.

"_And then on day, the magic day he passed my way, _

_and while we spoke of many things…" _

I found myself half-trotting, half-running to the sound. Twigs hit my face, and I could hear a thorn or sharp branch rip my gown, but I still went on, pushing my way through.

"_Fools and kings…"_

He was getting closer, I knew it. I could hear his voice more clearly now.

"_This he said to me…"_

A silent pause, before he went on.

"_The greatest thing…"_

I strain my ears for something more, and I think I can hear trickling. A stream?

"_You'll ever learn…"_

I can hear the crunching of leaves and branches under my feet, and my heavy breath.

"_Is just to love…"_

He must be in the clearing in front of me. I take the last few steps at a run.

"_And be loved…"_

I come out of the forest, and realize too late that I am on a precipice directly above a river. My feet struggle for land but already I am beginning to fall. I only have time to get a glance of the river to see a young man sitting on a rock at the river bend, with brown hair falling into his shocked blue eyes, before I plummet to the river below.

_In return…_

_End of Chapter One_


	2. Chapter 2

**Next chapter out. Guess who the guy in it is? :) I was thinking about making it longer, but then I decided on leaving it to Chapter 3. Enjoy!**

_Chapter 2_

_I'm by the river, singing. It's quiet here, and helps me think. I always come here when I want to get away from civilization, because no one else seems to come this far out into the woods. I love it here, looking up into the trees and watching the birds sing. I smile, completely relaxed. _

_Suddenly, I hear a crash on the other side of the river and, looking over, I see someone coming out of the underbrush. They're going too fast, and I watch in shock as the woman gives out a gasp and falls over the edge, skirts billowing out behind her, and she hits the water with a crack._

_In moments I'm by the edge of the river and wading in, yelling out to the woman whose head has just come to the surface with a loud gasp. I can't see the woman's face, but I do see her rich auburn hair that has pulled loose from pins and ribbons that still dot her tresses._

_Pulled by her dress and the pull of the river, her head bobs down again, but her hand shoots up, and I make my way towards it, still yelling out. The water is up to my chest as I begin swimming, panic closing in on my chest, overpowering shock._

_Coming to her hand, I reach down and grab her body, pulling her to the surface. She gasps as soon as she gets to the top, but with the water flowing around us and the panic shooting through my veins for her, I don't get a look of her face. I take a good grip around her waist and heave her towards the shore of the river, my muscles screaming at the strain. Her thrashings in the water are weak, and her short breaths come as gasps as her head tries to stay afloat._

_I can feel sand beneath my feet, and then I'm on the shore of the river, gasping and dragging myself and the woman towards solid ground. I collapse when I reach it, and all I can do for a minute is pant and heave up the water that I had ingested, feeling sick and weak. I quickly struggle over to the woman, though, afraid of the limpness of her body. I had heard her cough up water as well, but now she was still as death. _

_Her gown is expensive and soaked, plastering her body like a huge and heavy wet blanket. Her hair, thick and red, is splayed over the sand and pebbles of the riverbank in wet strands. I wonder who she is, but the thoughts are pushed out of my mind by fear._

_I pull her around to face me by her shoulders, and give a sharp intake of breath in surprise. If her dress was beautiful, then she herself was an angel: dropped down from the heavens, where the sunsets stained her hair and lips red, and her long eyelashes rested gently on her soft pale cheeks that were as white as snow. Her mouth was open the tiniest bit, and I could have thought she was sleeping, she looked so peaceful._

_I had thought that she was a woman when she had fallen, but she's really more of a child, younger than me. I would guess that she was eighteen, but with her wet face and gown, she looked more like sixteen, cold and weak. I felt an instant sense of worry and protectiveness take over my mind._

_A trickle of blood is running from the side of her mouth, and I touch it in horror. Why was she bleeding from her mouth? On her forehead, a cut has slashed across the skin, and blood has started to seep from the gash. I feel myself choke up in terror. Oh no, she couldn't be…?_

_Her red, parted lips suddenly begin to quiver as a soft, wet cough escapes her. A sharp gasp, and her eyelids squeeze tightly shut, before slowly, slowly, they open to reveal two scared liquid-blue eyes._

_End of Chapter 2_


	3. Chapter 3

**I got some new reviews (okay, just from my friend who came back from a trip) but that still makes me motivated! Thank you reviewers, they were really encouraging! I hope you enjoy! In this chapter, I kinda put two together, so you might see the split where they were once two chapters. Sorry! **

Chapter 3

I open my eyes weakly, feeling every muscle of my body bruised and strained. My throat is sore from something running down it, and I can feel pain on the side of my cheek where I had bitten it, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth.

I can't make sense of the image in front of me: A young, handsome, dark-haired man that I would guess to be around nineteen bent over me, his shocking gray-blue eyes filled with fear, his hair plastered onto his scalp and water creating a sheen over his face. Then I do, and I try to scream, but it comes out as a hiss of pain as my bruised torso reacts to my intake of breath.

"Shh…." The young man's voice is soft and pleasing, and I can feel my tense muscles relax, even though he's a complete stranger. His gaze is not lustful or hungry, but rather comforting and protective, as if I were a child. I feel like a child. I'm wet, I realize, and in a strange place. Where am I?

I had fallen.

I remember now, the shot of terror that had burned through me, as I fell to the river below, the crack of pain when I hit the surface, and then the cold blackness that had engulfed me, filling my lungs, keeping me down… The terrifying numbness that took over my body and mind, making me stop swimming, stop trying…

My mind had gone black, but now I'm here, staring up into the eyes of a handsome stranger not much older than me. I feel a lurch in my stomach.

"Where am I?" I finally get out, the words scratching my sore throat.

"You're by a river." The young man's voice is calming and foreign, Scottish if I remember right. An immigrant to England, then. I wonder when he came here? A thousand odd questions are floating around my head, but I push them down.

"I fell, didn't I?" I stare up at the man as he nods, and I realize something else. "You saved me."

"Well, I…" His face has gone bright red and he looks to the side. I smile at his voice. It's… sweet.

"Thank you." He turns his eyes back to mine, and I have to stop myself from gasping at his piercing gray-blue eyes. His face looks warm and protective even with the covering of water, and I realize that he risked his life to save me.

"It was nothing. I was just shocked to see a lady in the middle of the woods." He smiles, and it's contagious.

"You were the one singing!" I open my eyes, shocked at my stupidity for not thinking of it before now.

"Yes, I guess that was me." He looks embarrassed again, and I admonish myself for saying anything.

"It's just… Sorry, you just sounded really good." I find myself blushing too, smiling hesitantly. "What was the song that you were singing?"

"That one? It's just something I had made up." He laughs, and I can't help but laugh too.

Suddenly, I realize where I am and what I'm doing, and I start up, eyes wide with horror.

"Oh no! I can't be here! With you, and… and w-wet…" I shiver, and remember at the same time that he does that I'm drenched and chilled to the bone.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" He leaps to his feet, wincing at the pain in his muscles. "I should have realized before-" He takes his jacket off from around his shoulders, but it's just as soaked as everything else about us. Looking down, I wince at the damage: ruined dress, battered shoes, missing hat, and when I touch my ears I feel empty holes. A fortune lost because I fell in a river.

"You're still alive, which is what matters." Looking up, I see that the man had been watching me, and realized what I had been thinking. "Now let's get you somewhere warm."

"What?" My eyes widen. "What are you going to do?"

"You need something warm, or else you'll catch a chill. Can you walk?"

I try to stand on my right foot, and wince in pain, instead lowering myself back to the ground, looking helplessly up at the man.

"I'll take that as a no." He gives out a chuckle, and then suddenly I'm in his arms, lifted up easily and pressed against his chest.

"What- What are you doing to me? Stop!" I twist my head around, trying to squirm loose from his arms, but he only chuckles again.

"You have to get to civilization somehow. Carrying you is the easiest way." He begins to walk, and I'm forced to lean my head against his chest. I can hear his steady heartbeat through his shirt, and this calms me.

"I'm going to take you into town. We can find somewhere warm for you there." The young man's voice is soothing next to my ear as I lean against him, completely exhausted. My trial in the river has left my muscles weak and strained, and I'm thankful for the man holding me…

A man is holding me! The shame! I let out a gasp of horror at the thought, and try to strangle out of the man's arms, but his grasp is tight.

"Let me go! I can't be in the arms of a man!" Speaking the words out loud brings a blush to my cheeks, but the man only looks down at me with an amused look on his face. Our eyes catch, and I'm locked in their blue-gray depths, but I shake my head free from their earnest gaze.

"I don't really think that you'll be ruined by being picked up by a man."

"Oh yes I will!" I punch him on the arm, but it's a sad attempt. "Do you have any idea what would happen if anyone found out? The tea ladies? My parents? Simon?" I shake my head at the thought, trying to block it from my mind.

"And this Simon, is he your suitor?" The young man's voice is still light and conversational, but I can hear a strain in it.

"My fiancé." I say it proudly, not looking up at his face. "We're to be married in a few months, and I _cannot _be in such a scandal!"

"No worries than, miss. I will give you no reason to be thought of as ruined." His voice has gone quiet, and we walk a far way in silence. I have the sense that I've insulted him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way. You did save me."

"Yes, I did." His footfalls are steady.

"I know I can trust you." The words pop out of my mouth and I can't take them back. I hear a chuckle, and then the man's face is next to mine again.

"You'll regret saying that, I bet." He laughs out loud, and I can't help but be enveloped in the sound, surging through my ears. I don't know why the sound effects me this way, and I don't try to figure out.

"Oh! I still don't know your name." I look up to the man's face to get a glance of his eyes at the same time as he leans down to answer me, and we end up with our faces mere inches apart. Neither one of us moves.

"Christian. And yours?" His answer is a murmur, and sends a chill down my spine.

"Lady Charlotte Heatherford." I'm the first to look away, and I feel cowardly for doing it. I hear a whistle from Christian.

"A noble, then? Thought so. You don't get dresses like those cheap. And this Simon of yours, he's one as well, I suspect?"

"He's a Duke. But that's not why I'm marrying him. We love each other." I make sure to make this clear to Christian.

"That's lucky. Falling in love with someone you probably would have married anyway, I mean."

"I wouldn't have!" It comes out more whiny than I wanted it. "I believe in marrying for love, not power."

"Is that so?" Christian cocks his head to the side, a smile flickering across his young face. "Well then, there might be something in you yet." With that, we come out of the trees to the outskirts of a town I had only seen in passing, and a life that I never knew existed.

End of Chapter 3

**Tell me if you liked it! Please review! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello everyone! Sorry for the wait. This isn't my favorite chapter, but I think you get the idea. :) Enjoy!**

Chapter 4

"Where are we?" I ask fearfully. We're behind some kind of building that has a back door leading to the forest that we just came out of. The building is wooden and damaged, scruffy being the best words for it. From the opening I can hear shouting, and the smell of alcohol and human sweat almost overpowers me.

"Charlie's Inn and Bar, home to any traveler of fellow looking for some fun." Christian grins at me, walking through the open door as I give out a dumbfounded cough of protest.

I'm engulfed in smoke first, and when it clears I can barely see anything in front of me, partly because of the smog, but mostly because it's so dark. There's a few candles littered around the place and a huge fire roaring in the fireplace, but besides that the building is empty of light.

The smell envelopes me, of sweat and alcohol, and I nearly choke on it. On one side, there's a bar with a woman behind it, handing out drinks and wiping the wood with a dirty gray rag. All around the room there are tables that are occupied with men in different states of drunkenness. Women walk from table to table, flirting, but not in the polite way that I'm used to. I give out a surprised sniff, raising my head higher.

A man sitting at a table near the door notices us first. He gives out a drunken laugh, flailing his arm in Christian's direction. "Well, look what young Christian fished out! Where'd you get the lady?"

The room quiets down as all eyes are drawn to me, and I put my head down in self-consciousness. Christian just speaks smoothly to the woman behind the bar.

"Mary, I need a blanket or something. She fell in the river." Ignoring the jibes from the other men in the room, he focuses on getting me warm, taking the wool blanket from the woman and propping me up near the fireplace. The heat from the fire is refreshing after the surprisingly cool spring breezes.

"You okay now?" I look up to see Christian's smiling face as he hands me a mug of something, before sitting in the chair next to me.

"Yes, thank you." I take a sip of the brown liquid in the mug, and regret it immediately. It's some kind of alcohol, but not like wine. It has a tangy, unrefined taste, and I can't understand why men around me are drinking it down so heartily.

As I wrap the blanket closer around me, I see a dark-haired man come up behind Christian's chair, slamming him on the shoulder. "Christian!'

Turning around, Christian returns the greeting. "William! How's it been?"

"Not bad, lad, not bad." William gives out a heart laugh before turning his eyes to me. "And I see you've been doing alright yourself. Who might this be?"

"Oh! Charlotte, this is William Thomas. William, Charlotte."

"Lady Heatherford," I say to Christian.

"What?" Christian's voice is surprised.

"I would prefer you call me Lady Heatherford, not Charlotte." I raise my chin higher and take a sip out of the mug, before remembering what it is and putting it delicately on the table next to my chair.

Christian gapes at me for a moment, before regaining himself and nodding. "Right. Of course. Lady Heatherford, I just forgot." But when he looks up again, I can see a new hardness in his eyes.

There's an uncomfortable pause, as we all stare at each other, willing someone else to say something. Finally, I speak up.

"So, Christian, what exactly is it that you do?"

William answers me before Christian can even open his mouth. "Why, Christian's a storyteller! You should hear him speak, or sing. He sings as well. Quite the lady charmer, I might add." He grins, as Christian reaches up and swats him on the head.

"Yes, I had the pleasure of hearing him sing earlier," I smile, and Christian ducks his head down, a blush reddening his cheeks. William gives a hoot, still speaking to me.

"He sang to ya, then?"

"Actually, I kind of… fell into him, in the woods. I was lost, and I heard him, so…" It's my time to blush, but I keep my head high, willing it to go away.

"Such a pretty lady must have a pretty voice, too. Come one, sing to us!" William's still speaking loudly and I can see some heads turn out way.

"Oh no, I can't." Fear shoots to my head, as I open my eyes wide.

"Oh yes ye can!" William is laughing now, and some people start clapping, cheering me on.

"No really, my voice is very bad-" I look over to Christian beseechingly, but he's laughing too, egging me on.

"Come on, one song! I'm sure you know one?" I look around the room, to all of the faces now turned my way, smiling, telling me to go on. I gulp uneasily.

"Well, I do know this one… From when I was little…" I try to remember the lines. The truth is, I haven't sung for years. Even my mother couldn't really find anything good to say about my voice, but everyone is watching me with easy smiles on their faces, encouraging me, so I hesitantly begin to sing, ignoring the quiver in my voice.

"I follow the light…" I try to block out the sound of my own voice, just trying to remember the words. "Can't stand the light… When will I begin? To live again…" It's more speaking than actual singing, and I try not to wince as I go into the main verse.

One day I'll fly away,

Leave all this to yesterday,

What more could your love do to me?

When will love be through with me?

Why live life, from dream to dream?

I stop, just the way I remember my mother doing when she sang it to me. "And dread the day, when dreaming ends." I breathe in deeply, before finishing the song at a near whisper. "One day I'll fly away… Fly, fly away."

Once I finish the song, I look up to see everybody's faces. The room has gone quiet, and I can't make out what's going on in their expressions. Looking over to Christian, I see that he's a little shocked, or stunned, or something.

"What?" I say defensively, looking from person to person. Finally, William speaks up.

"Well, you wouldn't win a singing contest, that's for damn sure." A laugh goes up from the audience, and I want to slap him.

"Well, I didn't tell you I was good! I'm bloody awful!" After I say it, I wish that I can take it back, slapping a hand over my mouth. This only makes them laugh harder, but not in a bad way.

"We know, Darlin'." William comes over and pats my back, and I don't send him a glare for it. Instead, I turn to Christian, who's still trying to figure out his impression of it all. The talking returns, and people go back to their other conversations, letting Christian and I speak freely.

"What was that expression on your face?" I ask, teasing, as he stares into my face. I kind of regret saying anything, because when he turns to me with his startling blue eyes, I forget what I'm asking.

"It's just… You sounded so… innocent, or something. So exposed, like a child. It just kind of shocked me, like I was seeing the real you. It wasn't very good-" he smiles warmly- "but it _was_ beautiful."

I can feel the blood rush to my face as I stare at him, my mouth open. With the way he was looking at me, it feels like we're in a room by ourselves with the inn going on around us. Something is pounding in my ears, and my pulse is quick at my throat.

Before I can speak again, though, William is beside us. "Ah, Christian, wooing the lost damsel, are ya? Good man!" He laughs as Christian gets up to smack him on the head again.

At a wooden stage, I can hear some music start up from a fiddle. Couples come together to start the dance, but it's not the type that I'm used to, with timed steps and holding hands. Instead, it's much quicker, and with different steps to different people.

William catches my glance and grins. "Do ya dance?" With an over-exuberant bow, he holds his hand out to me. "May I offer you a dance, Miss Heatherford?"

I hear a cough of protest from behind us, and when I look around I feel Christian coming next to me. "Beg your pardon, William, but I _was_ the one who saved the Lady." He turns to smile at me, and I bite my lower lip, refusing to show how the small motion sends butterflies to my stomach.

"Oh ho! Feeling possessive, are we?" William laughs, but I can't focus on it as Christian takes my hand and bows, before looking up with an already-familiar smile lighting up his face.

"May I have this dance, Lady Heatherford?"

I give a small nod, and his smile widens. "Your prize for saving me." I try to turn it into a joke, so that he can't see through it, so that I have a reason for dancing with him. I'm a fiancé._ It means nothing, _I tell myself, as he leads me to the floor and we begin to dance.

For the first few moments I watch, and what I can make of it, there aren't any real steps to the dance, which surprises me. Instead, people dance how they feel, with nimble steps and many different beats on the wooden floor. Then I join in.

My first steps are hesitant, awkward. I can't find the beat well, and my gowns tangle around my legs, not the best for dancing. Then warm hands are slipping into mine, and when I look up I see Christian's face near mine, a warm and encouraging smile bringing up the corners of his mouth.

"I'll help you." His voice is soft and flowing in its accent, and I smile too, accepting his lead as he pulls me into the dance.

His hands are strong in mine, as he swings me around the floor. My dress has dried off enough so that it can twirl around me, casting lights everywhere from the bedazzlements. My hair has also dried, and the natural curls swing loose at my chest. I can't help but become elated at the sound of the fiddle and the pounding feet, the feel of Christian's hand in mine…

My mind tells me this isn't right, but my heart tells me otherwise, as Christian spins me around one last time before bowing to me to finish the dance, lifting his head to reveal that his eyes are sparkling.

End of Chapter 4

**Well, I'm glad that's over. I was hoping it would go a little better than that, but… Oh well. :)**

**At first, while writing this, I just needed some random drunken guy to come up to Christian, but he ended up being called something and having a major role in the chapter, and I think I'll keep him around for Christian's sake. Then I realized, what if it's Toulouse? And I told myself, no, Toulouse isn't Scottish…**

… **I'M NOT CRAZY. I JUST TALK TO MYSELF.**

**Anyway, please review, which will help me get the next one out!!!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello! This is a rather short chapter, I'm sorry! I have summer reading to do, and I'm cutting it kind of close this year. I'll still be able to update pretty regularly, but just in case… Also, I'll be gone on vacation next week, so I won't be able to update then. I think I'll be able to get another chapter out before then. Enjoy, and please review! **

Chapter 5

"What happened to you, Charlotte? We were worried sick!"

I fidget in my seat, holding my skirts in my clenched fists. They smell awful, of river water and mold, and I'm sure I still have some smoke hanging in the air around me.

My time at the inn seemed to fly by, and I remembered moments after my dance with Christian that I had somewhere to be and that people were probably looking for me. Christian refused to let me find my way home alone, which was probably a good thing, because otherwise I probably would have gotten lost in the woods again. He knew them well, though, and soon we were on the outskirts of the forest, only a few hundred yards from Lady Meadowbow's.

Turning around to face Christian, I refused to acknowledge the lump that came into my throat, and instead put on a thankful smile. We had walked most of the way in silence, and now, when we're about to break company, it seemed hard to find anything to say.

"Thank you so very much for helping me in the river." I keep my ladylike smile on, even though I have the strangest urge to hug him. "I will always remember you-"

"Shh." Christian puts a finger to my lips, and I blush at the touch. "We'll see each other again, I know it." He takes my hand in his, and kisses it, as soft as moth's wings. "So, goodbye for the moment, Lady Heatherford." And with that, and a last warm smile, he turns and walks back to the forest, leaving me to compose myself for everyone else.

As I expected, everyone was out looking for me, or at least all of the men. Simon was worried sick, hunting the woods, calling my name. My parents had been told, and in turn called the police, who were searching the woods as well. I was immediately infolded as I came out of the forest, taken in and given food, before my mother whisked me home to change and talk.

Now we're in the drawing room, and all I wish for is a hot bath and some sleep. My mother, father, and Simon are all sitting around me, waiting for me to answer.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience," I apologize. "I went out looking for Simon, and I got lost. I fell over a cliff and into a river." I left out the part about running after the singing voice, which probably would've sounded ludicrous.

"Oh, how awful! What happened next?" My mother is on the edge of her seat, taking in the story hungrily. Simon still looks worried, but he seems to have calmed down since I came back, when he had engulfed me in a hug before remembering proper etiquette.

"Luckily, a man was nearby and saved me." I'm glad that I can keep a blush from my pale cheeks. "He took me into town and gave me a blanket before bringing me back here." I also leave out the part about the dancing, which probably wouldn't have gone over well.

"Into town? As in, the _common _part of town?" My mother looks slightly sick at this prospect, which for some reason makes me angry.

"They helped me, mother. I probably wouldn't be here if that man wasn't around." I'm shocked to hear a slight edge come into my voice, and I compose myself again, telling myself that my day at the inn had worn off some bad habits on me, that it's best left forgotten.

"Oh, I never said they didn't. Of course, of course." Mother is quick to retreat, but her eyes are confused. I know I need to make amends, but I'm just tired of the questioning, so I excuse myself and retire to my bathing chambers, calling a servant to help fill the tub for my bath.

~*~

It's a beautiful day today, almost two weeks after the river accident. I raise my face to the sun, a smile dancing across my lips, as I twirl my lace-line parasol in my hands. I'm in a stylish turquoise gown, a nest of blue feathers adorning my hat, and I'm walking arm in arm with Simon, who is staring down at me with love clear in his eyes. I return his glance, smiling at his upturned mouth, and the stray hair that has fallen in his eyes. As I brush it away, I think of how it reminds me of someone…

Of course, Christian. They really don't have anything in common, from the difference in their hair to their eyes, Simon's a light-green, Christian's a gray-blue. But the way that that strand of hair had fallen so naturally onto Simon's brow couldn't help reminding me of Christian's casual handsomeness.

I didn't just think that. I had known the gentleman for less than a day, and I most certainly feel no allurance towards him.

Yet I can't help the fact that every night since my accident had been haunted by at least one image of him. Only nineteen, barely older than me, but still I can see a sense of maturity in him without losing his youthfulness. His open smile, so natural and easy, made everyone in the bar want to smile as well, if only for his naivety. Christian is the sort that could easily get hurt, but you can't help but bring him to new things if only to see the joy so easily exposed on his face.

"What are you thinking about?" Simon's murmuring to me, and I give a reflexive smile, clasping a hand in his.

"Nothing. Isn't it a beautiful day? Just look at that lake!" I gesture towards the body of water that we're walking around, and it is truly beautiful: the placid surface is smooth as glass, spring light shining sharply off of it, a small clump of trees bordering the small shore. We can clearly see the entire lake from out vantage point on the hill beside it.

"Yes, it is. Do you want to get closer?" He leads me forward as I nod in pleasure.

The grass feels nice against my ankles, under my skirts, and the soft heat seems to be humming in my ears. I'm so happy, with Simon beside me and my whole life ready.

Looking at the lake once more, I see that we're not alone on our path. Standing on the shore of the lake, with his hands in his pockets and facing away from us, is a man that's staring out at the water as if he's searching for something in their depths. I can't see his face at first, but when we get close, I realize with a jolt that it's Christian. I can't believe my bad -or good- luck. Of all of the people who could be walking along the lake at the same time as Simon and I were, it had to be him.

He doesn't see us, and I can easily veer off our path, telling Simon that he had once been rude to me at a shop to something, and that would be it. No harm, no foul, and I would probably never see him again.

Instead, I grip Simon's arm tighter and make my way towards Christian.

End of Chapter 5

**Okay, there's the chapter. I have the next chapter ready when someone new reviews, so… yeah. Thank you for reading!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello everyone! Next chapter out, I hope you enjoy!**

Chapter 6

"Simon, this is a friend of mine. You can meet him," I murmur.

Christian sees us as we're walking towards him on the beach, and his first expression is shock, cleared quickly away by happiness as he recognizes me. A thrill runs through my body at his smile, but I force it down, refusing to even think of it.

"Lady Heatherford!" I'm surprised at how much I've missed his already-familiar accent. I smile as he comes over to us, taking in Simon with a single glance.

When he stops next to Simon, I'm able to match them against each other. Simon is a little larger build, taller, with firmly placed shoulders. Christian is younger than him by a year or two, a little shorter, and in my heels I can almost be as tall as him. He has a stronger build from exercising every day; not muscular, exactly, but toned and fit-looking. His face is softer, easy to express emotions, while his stance is friendly and slightly towards me.

"Christian, it is a pleasure to see you again." With Simon beside me I'm once more the refined gentlelady, tasteful and polite. I turn to Simon. "Simon, this is the man that saved me from the river, Christian. Christian, this is Duke Simon Trinton of Harrisburg."

"Yes, Lady Heatherford had spoken of you." He smiles to Simon, but I'm a little shocked to see Simon raise himself up, his eyes barely hiding hostility, a thing I've never seen in him before.

"I never expected you to be so young, Christian." His voice is easy and conversational, but I can hear a slight strain in it. Christian gives out an easy laugh.

"What, did she make me out to be an old man?" The words are hilariously unable to fit with his face. The way he's looking, weight slightly shifted to one side, eyes bright, it seems impossible that he would ever even become old.

"No, nothing like that." Simon backtracks quickly. He flounders around for something to say, and I smile up at him, clinging to his arm. "I must thank you for saving Charlotte with all of my heart. She's my life, and I don't know what I would have done without her."

Warmth rushes through my body as I stare up at Simon lovingly. We love each other, heart and soul. How can I even think of Christian in that way when I have Simon? Looking over, I see Christian smiling as well, but a little uncomfortably.

"I'm glad to be of service, but I really must be going now. I had an important appointment to keep. Duke Trinton, Lady Heatherford." He gives a bow to both of us, before heading off into the trees surrounding the lake. It seems a little peculiar, his abrupt departure when he seemed to have just been staring out at the lake with no real purpose, but we both drop the thought as we resume out walk. I take a final glance over my shoulder, and see Christian with his hand over his face, before he's swallowed by the surrounding trees.

"He seems nice," Simon says, smiling at me.

"Yes, he is," I answer, not quite sure on what I meant by it.

End of Chapter 6

**I'll be gone on vacation next week, so I won't be able to update. Sorry! :) Read my profile to get the dates and misc, information, please!**

**It would be AMAZING if I got a lot of reviews when I came back, so please review! Tell me what you think! **


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello again! I'm back from vacation, and it was so much fun! Anyways, I wrote some more for this story, so here's a chapter! Enjoy, and please review!**

Chapter 7

_I hurriedly walk away from the couple, lengthening my strides until I'm far away from them, too far away to hear their laughter entwining in harmony. The way they look together, it seems impossible that they can ever be apart. They are the perfect couple, perfect in every way. Both are handsome, Simon being Lady Heatherford's knight in shining armor. She looks so strong-minded, sure in all that she does. She never really gave a romantic thought towards me, she's too smart and strong for that…_

_I put a hand over my face, willing the tears angrily from my eyes. How could I have let myself become so open? That day that we had spent together, that meant nothing, And why had I even thought of it? My entire life, and nothing has effected me so much as those few hours with her. _

_She had needed help, and was thankful for it, rewarding me with her beautiful smile. How could I have ever let the notion that she might have felt something for me enter my mind? No, that wasn't it, because I never believed that she would let me into her world; but it was only I, who took into my silly head that I would be given the true honor of loving her._

_~*~_

We return from our walk, and I go up to my room, my mind a little fuzzy. I can't put my mind around it, but for some reason, when I saw Christian walk away from us into the woods, I felt something drop in my stomach. Maybe it was the way that he held his hand over his face, as if his expression was too much to handle. I can't understand it, and I don't want to. The very thought… If Christian actually _felt something _for me…

I sit on the side of my bed, angry and depressed at the same time. My life had been so easy before I met Christian. What made it so different now? Why could I not push Christian's image from my mind?

I bring up a pillow and smash it against my face, falling back onto my bed with a plop. The soft down smothers my snarl of frustration. How could I be doing this? How could I even be thinking about it? Simon and I are made for each other! Simon would never look twice at another woman! I bring up an image of him in my head, and I feel the same tingle run through my body at the sight, but it seems automatic, as if I'm supposed to feel it. No one is pushing us together, and each kiss for us is something new, special. What I feel for Christian is completely different.

It still feels special…

I pound my blankets with a clenched fist. That's it. I need to sort these feelings out, and the only way to so that is to talk to Christian face to face. With him in front of me, I can fully understand that what I feel is not, in fact, attraction, but just a strange friendship that I might wish for for it being an oddity.

Yes, I will see him again, but not today. No, I'll have to wait, wait for a time to come around, where I can see him again. But today, today I'll go along with my schedule, my plan working itself out in my head, as I compose myself and descend the stairs for supper.

End of Chapter 7

**Leave you wondering what comes next chapter, right? Review please, and tell me what you think!!!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Dum de dum dum, another chapter. Enjoy! It's kind of a long one.**

Chapter 8

It's early morning, the sky tinged pink and new. It's cold as well, and I shiver, bringing my shawl closer around me as I head down to the servant's quarters on slippered feet. No one is up, no one but the servants, as they work their way around the house, lighting fires and making ready for us. No one will be up for hours, which will give me time enough to leave unnoticed.

I had already informed my parents of my day's plans. My cousin, Sophie, is visiting from France, and I'll be meeting her at the lake to go on an enjoyment-filled excursion on a boat, full of entertainment and catchings-up for the two of us. We have to leave early to get the full impact of the morning, though, so there was no point in everyone seeing me off since I would leave so early. I would be back by late afternoon, refreshed from my trip on the lake.

Of course, it was all absolute rubbish, but my parents didn't need to know that.

When I told my cousin of my plan through a letter, she returned enthusiastically, if not a little perplexed. Her letter spoke of how she was always happy to help with a little mischief, but that she was confused that Simon was to stay out of the mix as well. Nevertheless, she promised to do everything in her power to make the plan run smoothly, as long as I did come to visit her eventually, which I'm more than willing to do.

I head down the servant's stairs, hearing the wooden steps creak beneath my feet. I open the door quietly, look around, then step inside, closing the door behind me. The familiar walls comfort me as I walk around the tables, slowly warming up with the heat coming from the ovens.

Coming around a corner, I spot the lead housemaid, Teresa. She's been working for the Heatherford household since before I was born, and was my makeshift mother for when my own was too busy. Her soft, motherly eyes are slightly sunken into her wrinkled cheeks, and her silver hair is pulled back into a tight bun. She wears a different maid's outfit than the rest. Seeing me, she gives a warm smile, bundling me into her room and closing the door behind her. The rest of the maids and kitchen staff have already left, so we're left to ourselves.

Teresa takes a black and white bundle from under her bed, along with a basket and a pair of shoes. "Here's the spare maid's outfit that you asked for, dearie. Can't figure out why you want it, but I know not to ask." She kisses my forehead as I walk over to the maid's small bathroom.

Closing the door behind me, I take a look at myself in the moss-stained mirror. Slight bags are under my eyes, but they're soon to disappear during the day. My skin is pale and clean, lacking the rouge and other makeups that usually adorn my face. My auburn curls hang loosely around my shoulders.

I draw the black maid's uniform over my shoulders, feeling the rough material against my skin as I tie the white apron around my waist. There are white frills around my throat and sleeves, and I'm glad to see that the outfit fits me. Finally, I put on the black stockings that stop below my skirt at the knee, tie up my red hair in a band, put on my low-heeled shoes, and add the maid's hat to the top of my head. **(A/N: Yes, I know this isn't the usual maid's outfit. Ha ha, I have poetic license. :)) **

Looking at my face again, I'm surprised to see the difference in me. Moments ago, even in my dressrobe, I looked like a noblewoman, but with the maid uniformon, I can pass as a pretty ordinary-looking maid, if I do say so myself. If I look hard, I can see myself as the noblewoman in the mirror in front of me, but otherwise I think I can pass by everyone else. Just in case, though, I dab some soot from the fireplace artfully on my cheeks when I come out of the bathroom.

Teresa wrinkles her nose at this. "Really, Lady Heatherford, no self-respecting maid would have dirt on their faces." She shakes her head, laughing softly.

"Oh, it'll just help me blend in more," I say, rubbing the ashes further into my cheeks.

"I have to say, you do disguise yourself well. Why, I can barely recognize you, and I've known you since you were a baby!" I beam in pleasure. If I can mask myself from Teresa, than I can surely hide from everyone else.

Teresa's features turn somber as she takes my face in her hands. "Are you sure you want to do this? It's dangerous out there by yourself." Her eyes are worried and anxious, but I take her hands in my own, smiling.

"Don't worry, Teresa. I'll be fine. I just… Need to work things out in my head. Don't worry." Teresa smiles too, worry still clear in her face, but willing to help me out.

"Okay, then. Here's a basket. You're a maid who's come up to town to get some food, and you have a little time off to enjoy yourself as well. Although-" she smiles as I walk towards the back door- "You'd have to be the prettiest maid that's ever been hired."

"Thanks, Teresa." I kiss her on a cheek, catching my eyes in hers. "You'll have the clothes ready when I return?" When she nods, I smile again, say my goodbyes, and walk out of the back door, ready for my trip to town.

~*~

Morning has turned quickly into afternoon, and before I know it the day's sun is burning down on me. I've walked more than I ever have before, even longer than my trip in the woods. At least now I have on comfortable shoes, rather than the heels that had given me blisters. I brush a red lock of hair from my face and tuck it behind an ear, glad that I had put my hair up. I'm sweating along my back and face, but at least my outfit slightly hides it.

_I don't even know why I'm doing this, _I think grumpily, trudging along. I need to talk to Christian, but for some reason I want to see him without him knowing that it's me. I want to see how he works, how he feels- if he is really in love-

No, I don't know why I'm even thinking that. He might have looked uncomfortable about being around Simon and I, but that doesn't mean that he's _in love _with me. It was probably just me, over-thinking things.

_Then why are you here? _I ask myself, but I can't really find an answer.

~*~

The dirt roads slowly turn to pebbles, than stone, as I come to the town after my long walk. I sigh with relief as I see the first of the houses; I had been afraid that the road would go on forever. I rack my brains for what I want to buy, with the money that Teresa had tucked into the pocket of my apron. I had come up with a list while thinking up my plan, but now I'm having a hard time bringing it up. Meat… some fresh fruit and vegetables from the grocer's… and some bread, from the bakery.

Satisfied, I walk along the streets, looking up at all of the different shops. It looks so different from this perspective, and so alive, with people everywhere. Nobody really looks twice at me, except for some of the men, but I ignore them.

Turning off of a street, I find myself at a town square, with a large fountain in the middle. It's lovely, really; a beautiful stone piece, with clear water trickling down the structures in the middle and falling into the large pool beneath it. A group of both children and adults are in a loose semicircle around the fountain, the little ones splashing water at each other and laughing. I wander over, looking for the reason why everyone has gathered here, to see a man sitting on the rim of the fountain, brown hair falling in his sparkling gray-blue eyes, telling a story.

End of Chapter 8


	9. Chapter 9

**Here's the new chapter, hope you enjoy it! :)**

Chapter 9

I have to stop myself from gasping. Christian is there, right in front of me. He looks exactly the same, his easy smile in place as he tells a story. He's the same Christian, but different in a way, just because he's not talking to me. I can see his true side, and it's… the same. The same excited sparkle in his eyes, the same way he moves and gestures. I feel a lump in my throat. He is completely real, all of the time.

When I walk up to the group, basket nestled in the crook of my elbow, I am immediately immersed in the story. The atmosphere is relaxed yet tense, with the people moving around but listening intently to the story. I'm caught immediately in the tale; his voice is like velvet, unraveling the story.

"Now, the penniless sitar-player and the courtesan, they have to hide their love from the evil Maharajah." I listen, enthralled, as Christian shows us through his words and arm movements the tragic love story of star-crossed lovers.

As he speaks his eyes search the crowd for their reactions, and they fall on me. He pauses for a moment, but then he's moving on, just a dramatic pause in his story. He jumps onto the rim of the fountain and declares that the sitar-player throws money down at the courtesan's feet, swearing to leave the land forever, getting a gasp from the audience.

I feel a happy bubbling in my stomach. He doesn't recognize me! My plan has worked perfectly. Now, I can see him without him knowing who I am. I watch as he finishes up the tale, telling how they escaped the Maharajah and rode off to a distant land together, to live happily ever after. Everyone claps enthusiastically when he finishes and bows, coins dropping into the hat that has been left out for them.

The crowd disperses, the children wandering off into the alleys while the adults went about their business. Before I realized it, I'm the only one in front of Christian. He's picked up his hat and poured the coins into a bag, before looking up and seeing that I'm still here.

"Hello, may I… help you?" He stands up fully, and I find myself lost for words. I try to push it away, but end up just fidgeting in front of him. When I look to his face, he looks confused, and I blush in embarrassment. I had come all this way, and now I don't know what to say.

"I loved your story." I say awkwardly. Christian smiles, friendly, and I have the courage to go on. "What's your name?"

"Christian." He walks over to me with an easy gait, and before I know it he's in front of me. "And yours?"

I feel so stupid. Why had I not thought up a name on the way here? I think of something quickly, and my cousin's name comes to mind. "Sophie." I smile as well.

"Sophie," he repeats, a flicker in his eye, then he's back to smiling. "Well, Sophie, are you by any chance new to this town?"

It must have shown in my face. "Yes," I make up, "I just came here from… Paris." Inside I kick myself for the blatant lie, but go on. "I used to work as a maid there. **(A/N: Mwah ha ha, explains the maid's outfit a little, right? Okay, not really. :)) **I was just hired by the Heatherford's, and it's my first day getting food here."

"Ah, Paris. That makes sense, because you have a very Parisian air." Was he serious? Many airs I may have, but Parisian was not one of them. I'm English, through and through. But when I look to Christian's face, it's completely serious.

"So," he says, clapping his hands together, "can I show you around town? Since you don't know the town, and I have some time on my hands…"

"Would you?" I feel a sense of excitement. He is leading me into my goal: to get to know him through experience. Technically, it was to work out any feelings, but this is just a lead-in to that. Yes, that's what I'll say.

"Of course!" He holds out an elbow for me, and I take it, as he leads me down a street of the town.

End of Chapter 9

**Thank you for reading! Sorry that it's kinda short, I just thought this would be the best place to stop before the next chapter. You'll like it! I'll come out with it soon! :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello again everybody! As I promised, this is out pretty quickly. I just had my first full week back to school, and I'm pretty exhausted, so you are LUCKY to get it out before next weekend. :D**

**Also, there's a line in here from my favorite comedian, Eddie Izzard. I didn't plan it that way, it just happened to do with what I was writing. **

**Enjoy!**

Chapter 10

"So, what are you out here to get?" Christian is quite the gentleman, showing me the shops that we pass, holding my arm formally on his elbow. It feels so natural, with my arm in his, and I wonder what we look like: a handsome young man, showing around a visiting maid. I wonder if we look well together.

"I need some meat, produce, and bread," I say, thinking back to my made-up list. I'm still amazed that my disguise is working, but when I look over to Christian he has no former recollection in his eyes.

"I can show you those." He smiles, directing me into the shop in front of us.

I look up as we come through the door, and nearly faint in horror. Hanging from the ceiling are dozens of corpses of animals: cows, rabbits, pigs, chickens, deer, most of them undistinguishable. Through a door behind the counter I can see even more animals, salted and ready to be cut. I'm immediately thankful that I hadn't eaten anything before I left, because I most surely would have thrown it up.

I turn to Christian, who's smiling down at me. "So what type do you need? You must be used to meat, since you work in the kitchens and all." Were his eyes laughing? No, when I look again he's completely serious, and I compose myself. I need to stay in character.

"Of course. A duck was what was asked for." I try to put on a strong face, thinking of one of the meals that I had made with Teresa. I had never dealt with the meat before…

"I'll get that for you." He walks over to what I thought was a chicken, calling over the butcher as he did. Soon I was paying, and the duck was in a neat paper bag tucked in my basket.

"What's next?" Christian's smiling again, as we walk down the town's streets.

"Fruits and vegetables." I'm inwardly glad that I can work with those. No more disgusting dead animals. I can deal with finding vegetables.

We come to the grocer's, and immediately I'm overwhelmed with the amount of food. In the kitchens at home, we had always had the foods lined out neatly, each section marked and in their own cupboard. I wouldn't say that the arrangements here were messy, but there was just so _much_. Piles and barrels of every type of raw produce that I can think of are all over the store inviting people to come and take them. I look them all over, wondering how much I can buy with the money on hand.

Walking over to a pile of pears, Christian expertly flips one up to his hand and squeezes it gently with a measured look on his face. _What is he doing? _

"These pears seem just a half-day over ripe. What do you think, Sophie?" He tosses another over to me which I barely catch as he continues to prod the pear with his fingers.

"Wha…?" I stare at him in utter bafflement. He could tell that from squeezing the pear? Am I supposed to be able to do this as a kitchen maid?

He takes one look at me and bursts out laughing, pointing at me. "You should have seen your face!" I relax at his words, only to tense up in hostility. He was joking?

"What was that, then?" I say angrily, squeezing the pear in my hands. "Your… test… squeezy thing, or whatever it was."

"Dunno," he says, still laughing. "I have no frame of reference. I was just squeezing fruit." He hides a laugh behind his hand, watching for my expression. I'm stunned for a second, and then I inexplicably burst out laughing as well, holding the pear in my hand. It grows stronger, and soon I'm feeling my eyes tear up and my stomach hurts.

"We'd better take them, since we've been poking them," I gasp out, taking a couple more, and head over to the vegetable section, loading up with potatoes. When I walk a ways away from Christian, I'm able to think straight again, and I'm shaken at the way that he was able to get me laughing, how _easy _it is to be with him…

_It's easy to be with Simon, too, _I tell myself. Face it, I have an easy life. So why am I being so selfish, wishing for something more…?

But I don't. Just because Christian enjoys being around Sophie does _not_ mean that he loves me. I'm being silly.

We pay for the food, and walk out with a much heavier basket then before. Oh, if only I had a carriage… But I don't mind it as much, with Christian chatting amiably beside me.

At the baker's, he grabs a loaf for himself as well, jingling some coins in his pocket. "Ah, la douce odeur du pain frais. Il est cèleste, non?" He turns to me, smiling, as my mind goes blank. Was that French? I couldn't even make out the words from his perfectly slurred accent.

"It is heavenly, no?" He cracks the bread in half slightly, inhaling the scent of it. I finally understand what he said: he was talking about the smell of the bread!

"Oh… Oui…" I say, remembering one of the only French words that I know. Had I lost my masquerade? Changing the subject and language, I instead ask him a question. "When did you learn French?"

"My mother was French," he says, smiling. "My father is Scottish. He went on a trip to Paris once, to help some relatives move, and he fell in love with my mother in a nightclub. And so he brought her to England and married her."

"O-oh…" I say, looking down. Christian's mother was probably… a prostitute? I tried not to think about the word. He had been nothing but kind to me today and before, it didn't matter who his parents were.

When I look up, I can see Christian watching me closely, and I blush, knowing that he probably saw the horror sweep across my face. How could I be so…. Awful?

"It's okay." He says softly, and I look up into his eyes, almost losing myself in their depths. "I won't blame you for what you think. My mother was a great person; she taught me French, and more things than I could ever imagine. I never thought of her as any different than anyone else."

"Was?" I'm afraid of what will come next, but Christian's face remains passive, waving a hand gently to signal for us to walk.

"She died when I was thirteen. We never found out what she had; one night, she suddenly came down with a fever and cough, and by the morning she was gone." He looks away, and I touch his arm gently with my hand. He turns back to me, shocked at the touch.

"I am so sorry," I murmur softly, really meaning it. Christian is such a bright light in life, always cheerful. Why was he faced with his mother's death?

"It is alright, it happened long ago." We had reached the baker's counter, and he placed his bread and mine where the baker could see them. When I tried to pay for them, Christian told me to put my money away and paid for them himself, taking his loaf into his pocket.

We walk out of the baker's in comfortable silence, walking through the town together until we get to a grassy area near the back. It is nice and fresh, and we sit down under a tree, Christian splitting his loaf of bread and giving half to me.

Our conversation is light and harmless, talking about out likes and dislikes. I learn that Christian always wanted to be a storyteller, even when his father saved up for him to get a better life. "He's still grumpy about that," he laughs, taking a bite of bread. He swallows, then turns to me, a smile playing across his lips.

"So, Lady Heatherford, when are you going to tell me why you're here?"

End of Chapter 10

**Ha ha ha! Christian is NOT as dull as a used crayon, after all. Thank you for reading! **


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello everyone! I just finished this chapter up, and I'm also tired. Therefore, to put it in an equation:**

**Writing + Sleep Deprivation = Not My Best Work**

**But because I wanted to get this out, because I probably won't have time this week, I did. And I do like the scenes in this, but I'm just giving you a heads-up if it's god-awful.**

**Also, I just wanted to thank my two constant reviewers, because you guys have been very helpful in keeping my motivation for the story! :) **

**ABM: Thank you so much for reviewing, you were the first reviewer, and made me so happy! Everyone reading this, please go read ABM's story, On With the Show, because it is spectacular, spectacular. No, this is not a cry for her to bring out another chapter. :)**

**RavenclawRebel: Gah, can't say it enough! This girl is great, and you should totally read her work as well, not only because it is amazing, but because she is a super nice person and totally deserves more reviews. :D**

**As always, thank you all reviewers, I love them each individually!! They keep me going, and they are very appreciated!**

**Okay, that's it… I'm sorry for rambling, it comes from having too little sleep… I think I'll regret putting this chapter out in the morning, but for now, read on and enjoy! :) **

Chapter 11

I stare at him with a gaping mouth, not caring if it's unladylike. _He knew? He knew all along?_

He laughs at my expression. "You didn't really think that I wouldn't recognize you, I mean your hair, for one thing." He smiles, lightly touching a strand of my hair before retracting his hand. I don't mean to, but I shiver at the motion.

"B-but… You played along! You didn't seem to recognize me!"

"How could I not?" He replies, smiling, then blushes slightly and turns away. I feel a lump form in my throat, but when he's turns back, he's smiling again.

"You still haven't answered my question. Why would a lady be out here in town?" He cocks his head to the side, his eyes laughing, as I blush and try to think of something to say. I finally decide on the truth.

"I came here…" I take a deep breath. "…because I wanted to know more about you." I look up from under my eyelashes at him, and he looks shocked at what I've said.

"How do you feel about me, Christian?" I ask, staring into his eyes. There's a pause, and then he opens his mouth to reply, but I cut him off hurriedly, saying, "Because you are a very good friend to me."

He almost chokes on the words in his throat, than coughs into his hand, looking down. After a moment he looks back to me with a smile, but I can't help but sense that it's a bit forced.

"I feel the same." His smile is sweet, but there is something there that seems strained. Why had I spoken out? I had really wanted to know what he thought. Was I that frightened of what he said…? Or am I overreacting?

I look up to the sky, and see to my surprise that the sun has passed the center of the sky and is now descending in its daily path. "Oh, I'm sorry Christian, but I really must go. You see, my parents don't know that I'm out here, and I-"

"I understand, Lady Heatherford." He stands up and holds a hand out formally for me to help myself up. "Do you need for me to walk you home?"

"No thank you, you've been very kind today." I drop my hand and turn away, but stop, turning back. "And Christian?"

"Yes?"

"Please call me Charlotte." I wait until this sink in, and a sad smile pulls itself across his lips, which sends a warm thrill through my body.

"Charlotte." I can't help but love the way he says my name, his lips rounding out for the C. He gives me an informal salute, still smiling, before turning and walking away, throwing a final glance over his shoulder. A warm, bubbly sensation is overflowing my insides, and my fingers are tingling as I turn away as well, finding my way numbly through the town.

It isn't until I get out of the outskirts of the town that my mind fully unfreezes and I can fully think again. I hate myself at the same time as I love the way he looks at me. How I do this? I didn't _really _love Christian, did I? And he said he was just a friend…

_I can't, _I think to myself, giving myself a moment's pause to wipe my cheeks and bring up an image of Simon before walking on. _I just can't._

~*~

"Hurry, m'lady! You're late!" Teresa bundles me into the kitchens hurriedly, closing the back door behind me. "Your mother is getting worried! How are you going to explain this?"

"I'll tell Mother that I came around back, she'll understand." As I speak, I quickly move to the maid's bedroom, with Teresa worriedly on my heels. Once the door is closed, I hurriedly draw the rough cotton dress over my head, taking the underclothes that Teresa places in my hands.

"I don't think that'll work, love." Teresa's round, owlish eyes are worried, but I'm still tingling with my encounter with Christian, and I can't fully take in the gravidity in her voice. "Wouldn't they have seen the carriage come around?"

"Sophie and I took a stroll in the woods afterward," I say distractedly, gasping sharply as Teresa pulls the strings on my corset. Her eyes are skeptical, but she says no more.

"Charlotte? Are you down there?" I stiffen in fright at we both twist our heads to the stairs that lead down to the kitchen area. It's my mother, and she must be at the top of the stairs, calling down.

"Charlotte?" She calls again, and my mind kicks in. I wave my hands in front of Teresa, and she snaps into attention as I bundle my dress into my arms.

"N-no, my lady! Just me, Teresa!" Her voice is quivering, and I can hear my mother give a hesitant pause before delicately placing her foot on the first stair.

Teresa and I both give a hiss of surprise and shock before whispering at the same time. "She's coming down _here?_" As far as I know, my mother has never set foot in the servant's quarters, but I can't think this over because Teresa is pushing the rest of my dress in my hands.

"Quickly! Love, look at you!" I do, and blush at the state of me: only in my underclothes, with my hair disheveled and sweat dripping from my face. If my mother saw me _now… _I spin around the room, looking for somewhere to hide.

"The closet! Hurry!" Still in hushed snaps so my mother can't hear us, Teresa pushes me to the large cleaning closet where she stores the brooms and other cleaning supplies, cramming me inside, before shutting the door and rushing to answer my mother's call.

I smother a hiss of pain from the hoping that's digging into me, and quickly move it around so that I can breathe again. I press my ear against the hard wood, listening to the conversation outside.

"My lady! Why have you come down into the servant's quarters? Please, I will come to you-"

"No, thank you, Teresa." My mother's instinct ears must be twitching, and I suppress a sigh. I can never get away with anything because my mother will always know if something is happening without her permission. _Please, just this one time…_

"I thought I heard Charlotte down here. Are you sure you haven't seen her? I'm looking for her, you know. She's a little late, and I'm worried."

"Oh, you know Charlotte and Sophie, my lady. Always sidetracking." Teresa gives a strangled laugh, and I can hear with horror that their footsteps have entered the servant's bedroom.

"Yes…" My mother's voice gets nearer and nearer to my hiding place, until she is standing directly in front of the door. _Please, please don't open it…_

After a pause, Mother walks on, to my immense relief. "Yes, well, they're probably just taking a little longer than they planned. You will tell me if you see her, though?"

"Yes, of course, Lady Heatherford." Teresa's voice is filled with barely suppressed relief, and as their footsteps grow softer and they walk away from the room, I give out a long sigh, thanking whoever was watching over me.

Finally, my mother returns up the stairs, and Teresa is opening the door for me to get out so can breathe. I give her a grateful smile, and she smiles too, if not a little shakily.

"That was close," is all I can get out, while we being my dressing once more in silence, layering me up for the masquerade of my happy afternoon out on the river.

With my dirty feet and uncombable hair, I can pass off as having been walking in the woods easily, and I take a couple of moments to compose myself and get my story straight. Teresa doesn't ask me how my day went, and I'm thankful, because I don't know myself. Did I enjoy myself? Did I get the answer I was looking for?

And, as I walk up the stairs and plaster on a fake, refreshed smile and look into my heart, I realize that I have.

End of Chapter 11

**Okay, ends a little randomly. I was going add on another part, but… You'll just get a super long chapter next time! Please review and tell me what you think!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hello everybody! As promised, I'm bringing out the next chapter to you this weekend, even though it took me **_**so **_**long to write it! Major writer's block! :D**

**And I'm sorry, this chapter is shorter then I thought it was going to be, because I had to push the next part off to the next chapter! A thousand apologies! :)**

**Anyways, enjoy, and review! You know I love them! **__

Chapter 12

When Simon comes to see me the following evening, I don't know how to react, and I have to spend a moment in front of my mirror, staring at my face. It looks strained, and there's worry in my eyes. My mind is weary from all of my thoughts last night and today. _How should I act around Simon now? _And then, _Why would I act any different?_

When I do come down the stairs, I hope I've cleared my face enough so that Simon won't think that anything has happened. I descend the stairs hesitantly, looking for his face, and he's there at the foot of the stairs, smiling. I smile too, and I'm overjoyed to feel that I mean it, too. I still love Simon, of course. He's my….life.

"Charlotte." He holds his arm out to me, and I take it, snuggling into the familiar crook of his elbow. Simon is my one and only, my second half. He's my perfect match.

And yet… Is he my soul mate? My mind slips to my comfortable conversation with Christian.

Stop it. My mind is just being cruel and thinking up all of the things that can go wrong, it's nothing. Pre-marriage anxieties, that's it. Anyways, there's no such thing as soul mates.

We're headed off to a fashionable gala, and for once Simon and I are quiet in the carriage ride there. I lean against his shoulder, drawing my evening shawl closer against the cool spring air. I listen to the wheels of the carriage, watching the landscape outside of my window, and fidget. _Stop it, be comfortable._

Simon lays a hand on my shoulder, and I don't mean to, but I flinch at the touch from nerves. He notices this, and turns toward me, his eyes confused.

"Charlotte?" He tries to say it lightly, but I can hear a twinge of hurt in his voice, and I'm immediately ashamed.

"No, I'm just… It's just…" I feel horrible, not being able to speak easily with Simon. "I'm just… Something, I don't know, Simon." I look up to him with pleading eyes, wishing that he can just drop the subject. I can tell that he wants to please me, but he's also confused, and with good reason. Why am I acting like this? My actions need explaining, but I can't- I just can't. And so I turn away, and look out of the window once more.

We come to the gala, and we're greeted by our hosts as we walk inside through the large open doors. We exclaim properly at the décor and food, as everyone does, completely polite and well bred. All the time I'm distracted, disconnected from my own ground, the thing that I'm best at: socializing.

"Charlotte?" I look up, startled, to see the group that I'm talking to looking at me, waiting. Glancing at Simon quickly, I can see confusion, and… Just a little bit of exasperation?

"Oh, I'm sorry, what were we talking about?" I smile, but everyone seems put off by my lack of awareness.

"We were talking about… your wedding?" The woman to the left of me titters quietly, and I try to hide my blush of chagrin.

"Oh yes, It's going to be soon, next month." I nod my head idiotically, trying to get my pride back. Where was it going to be? Had I even though about it lately? I don't think I have.

The others gush and compliment, and I can't help but think it's all so _dull. _It's as if they're parrots- repeating the same things! How could I have ever thought that this was entertaining?

They notice that I'm not as talkative as usual, and they awkwardly leave the conversation, giving me odd glances. I should feel ashamed of my poor social manners, but I'm feeling strangely apathetic as I turn to Simon, who has a confusing look on his face.

"Charlotte, what was that?" I can't help but detect a note of annoyance in his voice, and this makes me angry as I glare at him, venom in my eyes. He looks surprised, but I've already started speaking.

"What was _what, _Simon? Was I not the way that you wanted me to be?" I'm keeping my voice quiet, but I can see a couple of people look our way.

"I just meant-"

"Is it _alright _if I'm not perfect for a moment?" I don't even know what I'm saying, but I can't let the fire of anger that has been lit inside me go out just yet. It all came crashing down on me, and I can't take it- My circumstances are eating at me from the inside out.

"Charlotte." I look up to Simon in shock, for now there's anger in his whisper. "Something's happened to you, and you're not the same. You won't let me help you, and I want to, love-"

"Stop, just stop." I shake my head willing the tears away from my eyes. I hate what I'm doing, but for some reason I can't stop-

"I want to go home." I say it softly, and I know that I sound like a child, but I can't help it. I look up to Simon again, and he looks anguished.

"Charlotte?"

"Just take me home, Simon. Please." I'm aware of how young I look and sounds, just a little girl in a fancy dress. How has it happened so quickly, my step into society? Am I really ready for this? "Please."

After a moment's hesitation, Simon leads me gently to our hosts, who he thanks graciously, before giving me my shawl and leading me outside to a waiting carriage. I step up and into the dark interior, as Simon closes the door behind him and taps the window glass, giving the driver instructions. He sits back down, and the carriage starts up, drawing us away from the gala in silence, and I let a single tear slide down my face as I gaze out the window.

~*~

As we come to the gates of my estate, I slowly turn to look up at Simon, not wanting to look into his eyes. I bring my hand up to stroke his face, as he leans in and kisses me gently on the lips. When he pulls back, his expression in anguished, and I turn away, getting out of the carriage after the doorman opens it for me. Looking back, I trace Simon's features with my eyes, keeping back my tears.

"I love you," Simon whispers, and I immediately respond.

"I love you, too." And then I turn and walk away, listening as the door is closed and the couch sets off, taking Simon farther and farther away from me.

I slowly walk up the steps, listening to the sharp sounds of my heels hitting the stone and the early crickets chirping. A servant opens the door for me, and I'm on the stairs before my mother gets to me.

"Charlotte! Why are you home so early?" I know that she wants me to tell her everything, but I'm too weary for that.

"Mother, just let me go to sleep." I turn and being walking up the stairs again, and when I hear her give an annoyed exclamation, I turn sharply, glaring at her.

"Just leave me alone for once in my life, Mother!" It comes out more shrill than I want it to, and I quickly turn and run up the stairs, almost tripping on my gowns. I get to my room and slam the door behind me, throwing myself on my bed, and unleashing the tears that I've pent up until now.

_It's all so wrong, _I tell myself, pulling my blanket over my head to muffle my sobs. _How has it come to this? I love Simon! Why am I acting this way? _

I lift myself up into a sitting position on my bed, still crying, glad that no one can see me. I cry until I can't anymore, hiccupping into my sleeve. Finally, I regain some of my composure and go over to my adjoining bathing chambers, wiping my face with a wet towel. When I look up to the mirror I want to cry again, because my face is blotched and hideous, my eyes red and squinted. Instead, though, I just wipe my face a final time, before going over to my wardrobe and pulling out my nightgown. I refuse to let the maid in, and undress by myself, before putting on my nightgown and tying up my hair into my nightly braid. Still sniffing, I bundle myself up under the covers of my bed, wanting to fall asleep and never wake up again.

_End of Chapter 12_

**There ya go! Don't know when the next will be out, but…. Yeah. Hope you enjoyed! **


	13. Chapter 13

**Hello! I hope you like the next chapter… Read and review! :)**

Chapter 13

I wake up suddenly, feeling my downy pillow smashed against my face. I don't know what woke me up at first, and I tense up, my eyes wide. My memories of tonight are blurry, and I'm beginning to think it was just my disrupted dream awakening me, when I hear a noise against my window.

My mind goes blank in fear. Is it a burglar, sneaking into my room? Am I going to die tonight, after what happened? I mentally shake my head against these thoughts, realizing that it must be a tree branch or some other such nuisance. Still, I'm terrified, and after a moment's pause, I get out of my bed and pull a silk robe around my nightgown, walking carefully over to my window. Taking a deep breath, I draw back the curtains.

There is no burglar outside of my window. In fact, there's nothing out there that could have made the sound: no branches, no wind. I'm beginning to think that I've gone insane, and I turn away from the window-

To hear a sharp ping against the glass once more.

I turn back sharply, opening the balcony doors so that the cold night air blows in and weaves through my hair, sending shivers along the back of my neck. I step out onto the terrace, peering into the darkened woods. _Was that… Is there someone out there?_

As if he were made of the shadows themselves, a man steps into the moonlight where I can see him, and I gasp. _It can't be. _But it is, and even from this distance, I can see Christian's familiar smile spread across his lips.

My heart is beating as quickly as a bird's, and I clutch at my nightgown, my eyes wide. _What is he doing here? _He looks so… I can't even imagine a word to describe him. His handsome features are only accentuated by the moonlight flowing over him, and he looks almost god-like, as if he came from the forest itself, excepting his anxious stance.

When he sees that I have spotted him, he waves a hand over his head, and yells out to me. "Charlotte!"

I put a finger to my lips and glare at him, motioning to the inside of my house, to my sleeping parents. He only smiles, and waves his hand for me to join him.

"What?" I give an outraged snap, shaking my head strongly. "Christian, I don't know why you're here, but I can't-"

"If you don't come down, I'll yell louder. And I'll never speak to you again." He yells up again, and I wince, thinking of how many questions I'll have to answer if my parents see him… I worriedly look back to the house, before turning back to Christian, biting my lip.

"Alright, I'll be down in a mo'." I catch Christian's triumphant smile before I hurry off of the balcony, closing the glass doors behind me. When I lock them and pull the curtains over again, I fall to shaking, my mind in a frenzy. _What is he doing here? I don't need this now! _But my heart is bursting with happiness that I can't pretend isn't there.

I hurry to my bathroom, glad to see that the puffiness around my eyes has disappeared somewhat. Brushing my hair down, I turn around again and carefully open my bedroom door, peering around, before heading out into the hallway and down the long staircase.

Before I know it I'm outside and making my way across the lawn to where Christian stand, waiting. We're shielded by some decorative hedges as I come up next to him, a snarl already on my face.

"Christian! What are you doing-"

"Shh." He puts up a finger to my lips, just like before in the woods, and just like before I stop speaking, blushing at his touch. His usually lively eyes are somehow settled, serious, and I feel a lump form in my throat.

"Charlotte… I wasn't exactly truthful when you asked me that question at town." He looks down for a moment, but before I can say anything, he looks up again, piercing me with his smoky-blue eyes. "Charlotte, I've loved you since I first saw you- since I set eyes on you, you looked like an angel." My eyes widen and my mouth opens in a gasp, but no noise comes out. I don't want to take in what he's saying, but his eyes, oh his eyes! I don't think I've ever seen such tenderness before, such love. Now they're smiling, as he looks up at me with more emotion then I can even imagine, and my heart starts beating in my ears, hurting me.

"I know that I'm nowhere near you- it's as if- as if a wall is blocking us, we're so different. But I love you, Charlotte! I'm yours, heart and soul!" He reaches out and enfold my hands in his own, with so much emotion in his face that I can cry from it. "It's as if- as if my life has gained new meaning, as if I have finally found the sole purpose for me being here." I give a sharp gasp, closing my eyes, but I feel his hand on face, and I open them again.

"I know that I can't be a suitor for you, and that you already have a fiancé that you love." He takes a rasping breath before going on. "But he can't love you more then I do. You're everything! The moon, the stars… My life. Whatever you wish of me, I'll be." Hr brushes his hand along my cheekbone, and I turn my head slightly, feeling tears well up behind my lids.

"Christian, I…" I gulp deeply, trying to draw up my resistance, my love for Simon, anything… "I want…" My hands rest softly on Christian's arms, and after a moment, I draw closer, my resistance falling away. "I want…" It's a whisper, my eyes closed, as he leans in, and we meet in a kiss.

I bring my hand to his neck gently, as he sighs at my touch, cupping my jaw in his palm. Tears begin to spill out from under my lids as I draw my fingers through his hair, before I break away, staring into his eyes.

"I want you." It comes out as a whimper. I wish with all of my heart that I don't feel this way, but I can't help it. It's so natural, so unbearable.

"Oh, Charlotte…" I don't think I've ever heard a more beautiful voice then Christian's, as he weaved his fingers through my hair, pulling me in for another kiss, as my mind slides into a pure state of ecstasy.

~*~

After a few minutes, we break apart again, and I quickly draw my hands up to my face, wiping my eyes. Christian holds my own in his and, as one, we slowly slide down next to the topiary side by side, leaning up against the shrubbery.

"I'm so sorry, Charlotte." I turn to Christian, surprised.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm causing you so much pain," he says simply, drawing his hand over my forehead. "I don't… I tried to stay away, for your sake and mine, but I couldn't."

I look away, leaning my head against the leafy wall behind me. Everything that I've done tonight has gone against everything that I've been brought up to be. And yet…

"You cause me happiness, too." I smile, leaning into his shoulder. "I can't even speak to anyone else because they're so _boring _compared to you." He laughs at this, hesitantly taking my hand in his. I stare into his honest eyes before turning away again.

"Simon and I had a fight tonight." It's hard to let it out of my mouth, as if it's stuck to my tongue. "I don't…" I sigh, wanting to curl up into a ball again. "I keep on hurting him, Christian. Ever since that day with you, I can't act the same around him and I can see in his eyes… I'm killing him. He can't understand why I don't love him as much anymore… And neither do I." I put a hand up my mouth and let out a strangled sob, covering my face with my hands. Christian leans closer and wraps his arms around me, not giving useless encouragement, just comforting me until I'm weary once more.

"Why did you fall in love with me, Christian?" I laugh wetly, and I can feel him shake from laughter in response. "How could you ever see anything in my… selfishness? I have everything, yet I still want more…"

"You're not selfish, Charlotte. Don't tell yourself that." He kisses my forehead softly, and when he draws back I can see that he's thinking deeply, sheltering me with his thoughts with his blank expression.

"I have to go." I draw it out of my throat reluctantly, clumsily getting up from the ground. Christian rises up as well, fear barely controlled in his eyes.

"I can't lose you again, Charlotte. Not now." His voice is raw with emotion, and I feel tears smart in my eyes again.

"Christian…" I turn away, but he grabs my hands, making me look back to him.

"Don't…" His sweet, melodic voice wraps around me, making me look down. "Leave me this way… I can't survive, without your sweet love, oh Darling, don't leave me this way…"

I look up to his eyes once more, and they're so honest, so loving and hurt. After a moment, I open my mouth and say the words that I dread so much, yet can't help but say. "I love you."

He seems to fall back, leaning up against the hedge, staring at me in wonderment. I lean in and kiss him on the lips before backing away towards my house.

"You'll see me again? Tomorrow, at the lake?" Christian's voice is raw with love, and I can't help but feel my face widen in a smile.

"Yes." And then I turn away, nearly skipping as I run across the lawn towards my house, hearing Christian's quit laughter behind me.

"Ma belle ange."

_End of Chapter 13_

**The scene you've all been waiting for! :D By the way, "ma belle ange" means "my beautiful angel", if I spelled it right. :D Knowing me, I'd mis-conjugate a three-word sentence. I already made her masculine in the last draft. :D**

**Yes, I'm pretty sure I was channeling Jane Austen in this chapter, just not as flawless. :D  
**

**Anyways, I'll hurry up to get out the next one! Tell me what you think!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hello everyone! Sorry you guys, it's taken me forever to get anything out! First I had a writer's block caused from too much school work (I know, I know, I'm making excuses) and then my computer died on me. It's still dead, and the only times that I'm going to be able to work on here is when I'm on my dad's laptop. So please be patient with updates! Thanks!**

**Also, since this isn't going through Word, it's probably not going to be the grammatically correct piece of work, but oh well. :)**

Chapter 14

I wake up the next morning groaning, putting a hand over my face to stop the sharp sunlight from getting in my eyes. One of the servant's probably came in to open it earlier this morning... Oh, why did I feel so tired...

Suddenly, I sit up in my bed, my eyes wide, as memories of last night flash through my head. _No. Had that really happened? _I touch my lips with the pads of my fingers, as if traces of his kisses were still there.

_Oh no. What have I done?_

How could I have done that to Simon? To my life, to my parents? If word got out about this...

But it won't. Nobody saw us, and that's the end of that.

_"You'll see me again? Tomorrow, by the lake?"_

My mind drifts to last night, how simply _happy _it was to be with him, with Christian. His face, so open to all of my feelings... It was as if ti was a dream, it was so perfect save for my tears, but I know that it wasn't. It couldn't be.

_So what do I do now?_

Should I sneak out of the house, risk my mother's suspicion? Go out to meet Christian by the lake, hide away our love from everyone around us?

Or do I stay here, possibly go out for a walk with Simon? Make up to each other, laugh, enjoy our love...

It's so impossible! I want to scream, putting a pillow up over my face. I'm feeling horrendous! Maybe I can tell everyone that I'm feeling ill, and then stay in bed, not having to worry about anything for a day...

I hear the door opening downstairs, and a sudden call from the entryway that still holds some womanly grace. "Charlotte! Oh, Charlotte! Where are you, love?"

My heart immediatly lifts. I would recognize that voice anywhere.

"Sophie, I'm up here!"

I can hear her quickly climbing the stairs, tittering all the way gayly. "Really, Charlotte! What are you doing still in your room? It's 9 in the morning!" She opens the doors wide to reveal herself in all her splendour.

Barely 5 feet 4 inches **(A/N: Hm... What measurements would they use back then.... Anyways, that's just the measurement in inches. :)) **Sophie is as tiny as a pixie, even with her curls wound tightly on the top of her head and stylish heels. With her pale, healthy skin and thin bones, she could pass as a fairy as well, and is one of the most lively people I know. At the moment she's wearing a light blue spring dress, a simple bonnet resting on her curls.

"Charlotte!" She exagerates her gasp of shock. "Not even out of bed? Shame shame! What are we going to do with you?" I hastily draw my covers closer as she flits towards me, a dissaproving look on her face.

"Sophie," I say weakly, bending forward so that we can kiss cheeks. "It's been too long." And I really have missed her; my life seems dull without her liveliness.

"Only since two days ago, remember!" She taps her finger playfully on my nose, and I immediatly remember our 'meeting'.

"Oh, that reminds me, thank you so very m-" I'm cut off my Sophie's jingling laugh.

"Don't be absurd, you have to reason to thank me! I'd do anything for you in a hearbeat!" She sits down on my covers, drawing me close by the shoulders. "Now get ready. We're leaving soon."

"W-What?" I sputter out, still fully waking up. "Where?"

"Wherever we want, of course!" She lets out a light, tinking laugh, jumping to her feet once more and gracefully put me up and out of bed. Still disoriented, I dazedly stumble behind Sophie as she leads me to my dressing quarters.

Before I know it, and with Sophie's help, I'm fully dressed and ready for the day. I'm matching Sophie in light blue, although mine is a fair bit more intricate. Giving me no time to rest, she then drags me down the stairs and to the dining hall, where my parents are already eating and look a little startled to see Sophie.

"Oh... Good morning, Sophie darling. Your family is in good health, I hope?" My mother delicately taps the shell of a hard-boiled egg.

"Yes, very good indeed. My mother is the same revolutionary french woman, fighting for women's rights, while my brother is squandering his allowance on girls and drink in Montmatre." She smiles gleefully and sets herself down in a chair next to mine, happily setting to the egg that is placed in front of her, not noticing or caring about my mother's thin line of a mouth. For what seems like the hundreth time, I wish desperately that I could have been born as Sophie's sister. To live in France, with her lively and hilariously disjointed family...

"So, Charlotte," Sophie turns to me while we're opening up out eggs, "where do you want to go on this fine morning?"

I have to stop eating to think about this. Since we're going out alone... Can I chance it?....

"How about the lake?" I say it hesitantly, trying not to raise any suspicions.

"Oh, no, I've had enough water since our last trip." Sophie dismisses the idea with a wave of her hand, and my hopes drop into my stomach. I hadn't noticed it, but I really had been hoping to see Christian today. What will he do when I don't show up?

"How about going to shop for dresses?" She tosses out a suggestion, and I try to nod enthusiastically, not showing any dissapointment. The truth was, though, that I had no hopes of enjoying myself the entire day.

~*~

Once we're finished with breakfast, Sophie and I stepped out into the bright sunlight to be greeted by the carriage that had been called around to the front. I couldn't help but feel a sense of unhappiness as I lift myself up into the carriage and wave to my parents, feeling the door close behind Sophie.

She taps on the glass to get the driver's attention. "To the lake, please," she says pleasantly, falling back into her seat and turning to grin at my startled expression as the cab starts up.

"Sophie, what-?"

"I couldn't rightly tell your parents where we're going, now, could I? They might get suspicious." She lets out a light, excited laugh. "We're off to see your sutor!"

Again I stare at her in disbelief. "What- Sophie? How did you-"

"Oh, please, Charlotte." She's still grinning, wrapping an arm around me. "As if I didn't know when I got your letter what you were doing when you said to leave Simon out of it as well!"

I'm still trying to figure everything out, and a slight blush of chagrin touches my cheeks at her words. "Wait... So you knew from the start....?"

Sophie gives out an excited giggle, hugging me tighter. "Yes, of course! I am your loving cousin! I couldn't leave you in distress, because I knew you would be, indecisive darling as you are. So I came over to give you an excuse!"

"I..." I'm lost for words, staring at Sophie with warm eyes. Sophie really _is _the sweetest person I know. "Oh, thank you!" I hug her back as well, hearing her laugh near my ear.

"No worries, darling! I couldn't leave you in trouble! Now," she says, pulling back with a devillish look on her face, "what does this man of yours look like?"

End of Chapter 14

**Thanks for reading! Again, sorry for the poor grammar/spelling, I was in a rush. Don't know when I'll get the next one out! *groans and looks tearfully at notebook* Don't leeeaveeee me, writing ideas!!!!! I WANT TO FINISH THIS STORY!!!!!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Hi everybody! I know it's been a long time since I brought anything out, but I have reasons, I swear! Homework, relatives, studying, and losing my writing binder. Grr….**

**Anyways, I'm planning on bringing out new updates on ALL of my stories VERY SOON. So watch for them! Thanks.**

Chapter 15

The carriage leaves us off on the hill overlooking the lake, where I had just stood not so long ago. It's a clear day outside, the flyaway clouds whispy and white, like soft processed cotton. It smells like spring, and I take a deep breath, wrapping my light shawl a little closer against the slightly chilly air.

Sophie is already looking around for Christian. "Where do you think he is? Hm, tall and handsome, you say?" She throws a laughing smile over her shoulder as I glare at her. I'm looking too now, and I can spot him immediately. It's hard not to, for me.

He's along the shoreline again, with the same distant expression on his face, as he looks out to the water in thoughtfulness. I feel a flutter in my chest at the sight of him, and I take a deep breath, clearing my lungs, before beginning to hesitantly walk down the hill.

When I get closer his head turns, and now I can see his smoky-gray eyes, rising at the corners as he smiles. I smile involuntarily, and as if pulled by a string, we both begin to walk towards each other, slowly at first, then picking up speed. When we finally reach each other, he reaches out to me and holds me at the waist, lifting me up and swinging me around. I laugh as the cold wind runs fingers through my hair and chaffs my cheeks, smiling down at Christian. I lean down to kiss him, and he slowly lowers me until I can feel the ground beneath my feet again. I slowly back away from the kiss and look up at him, smiling down at me with utter happiness.

"You came," he barely breathes, touching my cold cheeks with a hand. I lean into it and smile, loving the feel of his skin against mine.

I turn around when I hear Sophie coming up beside us, and see her smiling at the both of us together. I can see some surprise in her eyes, and I laugh, knowing that she must not have been expecting us to be so happy with each other, for me to be relaxed.

I turn back to Christian, beginning with the introductions. "Christian, this is my beloved cousin, Sophie. She lives in France and is like a sister to me. We knew each other well when we were kids, before she moved." I can see Christian's eyes brighten, and smile. "Sophie, this is Christian. We met when he saved me from a river. He also speaks French."

"Oh, ça va?" Sophie's eyes have lit up as well, and Christian returns her greeting.

"Ça va, merci." They begin speaking in fluid French, and I listen happily as I lean against Christian's side, loving the feeling of his arm around my waist. I can barely think of a better setting: near the lake, with some of the people that I enjoy to be with most in the world…

And then my smile slowly collapses when I think of who else I love spending time with. My fiancé, my love. I twist slightly to look up at Christian's smiling face, and feel how the essence of love and pleasure wraps itself around me and squeezes tightly.

It's just so different, being with Christian and being with Simon. It's almost as if there are two different forms of love, between being with the two of them. Simon and I seem to be made for each other; we just seemed to fall into our relationship. But Christian… He was totally unexpected, unneeded. And I guess that was why I can't seem to live life without him.

I hadn't noticed until Christian was wiping the tears from my cheek that I had been crying. Angry at myself, I looked away, trying to blink the tears from my eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" I shake my head angrily, trying to let my feelings of anguish drop away from me. However, I can't help but look up when I feel Christian's hand lightly touch my cheek.

"You're thinking about him, aren't you?" His eyes are just as full with sadness as mine, and I have to look away. I can feel his hand drop from my face to my shoulder, as he lightly pulls me in. I follow his lead, leaning against his chest.

"Charlotte…" I start, almost forgetting that Sophie was there. She's next to me now, putting a soft, delicate hand on my shoulder. Her eyes are soft and worried. "I know that this can't be easy, but please don't tear yourself apart over it. These things happen."

"These things happen?" I pull away slightly, shocked. "These things happen? How can you say that? Am I really so weak that a simple action can change my mind?" I feel Christian stiffen next to me, and I turn to him, fresh tears welling up. "All my life I had hoped that I was better then all of those women that sat around at tea tables and chatted about the newest gossip, never staying on one topic for too long. I used to think that I was better then that, that my life would not be wasted on jumping from one pleasantry from the next. I always hoped that when the right time came I could settle down with someone with no regrets, that I could be happy! But now… There's no way I can be! Not now!"

I realize that I had been near screaming, and I break off quickly with a soft gasp, putting my hands over my mouth and breathing heavily. I can't stop, and my eyes are wide with horror and anguish, as I lean over with a soft moan. Tears are running freely down my face, and I roughly wipe at my cheeks, crying out loud. I can feel someone's arms around me, and I let them support me, feeling too retched to care anymore.

Finally my heavy sobs subside, and I just wilt against the arms, too tired to move. I hadn't meant to say anything, but it had just burst out of me. A hand rhythmically brushes through my hair, and I slowly turn around to face Christian.

I can't look in his eyes at first, anxious of what I'll see there. I can only stare at his chest, relaxing at his soft touches to my hair.

Christian finally speaks, and his voice is rough. "I'm so sorry, Charlotte." I look up into his eyes, regretting every single word that I had said. How could I have done that to him? How could I have unleashed his dammed-up wave of guilt that now flooded his eyes?

"I swear, this isn't like anything else to me." He swallows hard, staring into my eyes. "I can never feel like this again. I know… I know that this can't work out, and that it's tearing us up inside. I wish that I could fix this. I would do whatever I could to make you feel better, I promise you, Charlotte." His hand gently catches an unruly curl and he brings it up to his mouth and kisses it. Slowly, slowly, he lets it go, and it gently falls to the rest of my locks, staying firmly in place.

I hear a cough beside us, and I turn to see that Sophie is, for the first time in her life, looking uncomfortable. I feel another instant wave of guilt at putting her through watching this. "I'm sorry, Sophie-"

"Don't be." She pats my shoulder, a sad smile flitting across her face. "You have too many other things to worry about."

Chapter 15

**You're probably saying to yourself, **_**What? Why did she end it there? **_**The answer is the undeniable and inextinguishable pull of sleep. So, goodnight, everybody, I'm super tired. Please review! **


	16. Chapter 16

**Hi everyone! Yeah, it's been a while, sorry about that. :( **

**Anyways! Happy reading, and reviews are love!**

Chapter 16

When I return home from my trip to the lake with Sophie, I receive a message that I have a visitor in the sitting room. Curious, still rather dazed from my breakdown in Christian's arms, I head over to the room, making sure that my composure is tight and spotless.

When the doors are opened for me, I look in to see Simon reclining on a winged chair in our lavish sitting room, talking with my mother. My heart gives a lurch, and before I can stop it, a look of fright takes over my features. What if he finds out? Why is he here? Did he already know?

He smiles and lifts up from his seat, walking over to me. I can see my mother behind him, her eyes growing sharp at my features. When Simon sees my face he pauses, his own smile falling. "Charlotte, what's wrong?"

I bite my lip, widening my eyes and trying with all of my might to smile. "Nothing, Simon. It's good to see you!"

He walks over to me, bringing one hand to my face. "What's wrong, Charlotte? You always bite your lip when you're worried." He rubs my cheek with his thumb, and I lean into it, breathing in his smell. I love this man, I know I do. A month ago, I couldn't be away from him for more then a day. This remembrance aches inside of my chest.

"I love you, Charlotte." He wraps his other hand around my smaller one, bringing his face near mine. "I always will. You can tell me anything."

I look up to his face, not daring to take in his words. I have to be strong, pretend that nothing's wrong. Whatever he says, he could never understand. "Nothing's wrong, Simon." I smile softly, and lean up to kiss him on the cheek, pretending to be rebellious with my mother in the room. Looking into his face, though, I can see that my refusal to talk to him has hurt.

"I know that you're probably angry about last evening, and I regretted my words in the carriage." He looks down to our clasped hands, sorrow clear in his face. I feel a lurch of guilt swell in my insides.

"Simon, it's my fault-"

"No, Charlotte, I shouldn't have bothered you. I will try better next time, I will." His expression is worried, eager, and I feel a part of my heart crack. How could he think any of this is his fault?

"Simon, no- None of this is your fault. Don't- Don't think it is, please." I lean in closer to him, and I hear a cough from my mother behind us. I turn, and pretend to be chagrined, but instead I'm just full to the brim with guilt. I don't deserve Simon.

Simon stayed for nearly an hour in our sitting room, talking and laughing with my mother and I. I tried to join in as much as possible, smiling and adding in dull little comments, but each look felt like a betrayal, to both Simon and Christian. Our hands are clasped across our chairs, and with each loving look that Simon gives me I feel a pain in my stomach.

At last Simon left, looking blithe and content, kissing my hand tenderly before promising to pick me up for a party to-morrow night. I smile as well, watching as he elegantly gets into his carriage, giving a final smile to me. I remember the first time I saw Simon: at first, I couldn't believe what I was seeing, thinking that it was just my naive, young eyes making up the man in front of me. Could any man really look so elegant, so aristocratic?

Now… Why is it that the only thing I see in his face is misplaced love?

I back away from the doors, but before I can reside to my room I feel a firm hand on my shoulder. Turning around, I face my mother's hard-lined face, and immediately something falls in my stomach.

"Charlotte, a moment, please?" I know that it isn't a question. I numbly follow her to the sitting room that we had just vacated.

"Now, Charlotte, why don't you tell me about this argument with Simon last night." She purses her lips and picks up her cup that she had just been using, before realizing that the tea had gone cold. "Teresa!"

Teresa walks into the room, takes the cup, and exits, leaving me to my mother's words. She nods her head for me to begin.

"I…" I stammer, trying to think of someway to begin, slightly angry at myself for not being able to. "Simon and I… had disagreed about my behavior…"

"And what was this behavior?" Her wrinkled eyes are boring holes in my face.

"I…. had been feeling ill, and bad-humored, and I… that is, my mind… had been on other things…"

"This new suitor of yours?"

My heart stops, and I look up quickly into my mother's face, just as impassive as before.

"M-my what?" I try to say sarcastically, but it tapers out at the end from the fear in my voice. I want to faint. No, this can't be happening… She couldn't have found out…

She answers my question. "You think I wouldn't know? You silly, silly girl. I thought you knew better. A mother always knows." I flinch from the cold disdain emanating for her words.

"M-moth-"

"Don't- speak." Still just as quiet, my mother's voice is now slightly pinched with contempt, and I wince from it. I feel like a child in front of her disciplinary adult.

"Charlotte, I have raised you better than this. You _know _this. I thought that you would have your fill when you "fell in love" with Duke Trinton, even though we would have…. Persuaded you into it without this encounter. You are a perfect match." She purses her lips, staring into my face and trying to analyze my emotions. "Your life is set, Charlotte. I would never have expected so low as to be a peasant's whore-"

"Mother!" I stand up, color flushing my cheeks. "How dare you!"

"_I _dare?" Mother stays in her seat, but her eyes flash with cold fury. "Do not forget who you are speaking to, you wretched girl. _I _raised you the way you are. _I _led you to a life that you can live in happiness. I did everything in my power to help you, and don't allege that I didn't."

I stand still, looking at my mother but seeing nothing. In my mind's eye I see Simon, bending down on one knee before me, love in his eyes, and I can only remember the pure _happiness _that took over my body and soul, that I would be able to join myself so completely to this man. I had resigned myself long ago that I would have to marry a man who may not love me, but would protect me. I know that I put up a tough front about it, but that was the fact of how most marriages ended up. But now I had both.

And then I saw Christian… Leaning over me with fear in his face with water dripping down onto mine, sitting and telling a story by the fountain, kissing me softly in the shadows of the darkened garden. Was that all this really was, then? Was it just my mind causing mischief, imaging that I could love another, when really I was always destined to be with Simon?

I shook my head slightly, confusion taking over. I loved Christian… didn't I? But as I thought about it the idea became more and more far-fetched. Really, loving a _storyteller_, when you have Simon? Ridiculous.

"Charlotte, you must reconsider what you are falling in to-"

"Please…." I close my eyes. "I need to think this over."

"There is nothing to think over."

I have asked that no one enters my room. The window curtains are drawn forward so that no light seeps through, and I sit on the side of my bed, and think. I need to get a hold of myself, before anything else happens. I feel ashamed, behaving the way I have. I might be a vain and selfish individual, but I'm still intelligent, and there's no reason for me to be rushing around the way I have.

I re-evaluate my dreams for life. Ever since I was a little girl I wanted to be happily married to a rich man who loved me. There was never a time before my encounter with Christian that I would even consider entering any kind of relationship with a… commoner. I wince at the word. Christian is more than that, far more.

I can't do this.

I can't keep living this way.

And there's my decision- I won't see Christian again. After so much… So much love, so much heartbreak… I don't think I could bear to see Christian again, see how much pain my betrayal will mean to him. But I have to do this.

If it wasn't real though, this love… Why does it still hurt so much to think of him?

Simon takes me out for dinner that night, on a boat residing on the lake. It's beautiful, candles littered decoratively over the surfaces, tables spread out across the wood deck, where many well-esteemed couples are enjoying their evening. We are sitting by the railing, and I am over to look over the side and see the dark churning waters beneath.

"You look beautiful, Charlotte." I look up and smile automatically at Simon.

"Thank you." I reach out my hand, and he holds it gently above the table in his own. I close my eyes for just a moment and soak in this feeling. _This _is real love. It _is._

"How much do you love me, Simon?" I ask suddenly, and a blush rises to my cheeks immediately. However, I can't help but hold my breath as I wait for his answer.

He had been surprised when I said it, but now he's smiling. "I love you more than everything, Charlotte. I could never love anyone more than you."

"Thank you…" I whisper, not really knowing what I wanted from his statement.

_(I'm yours, hear and soul! It's as if my life has gained new meaning… As if I have found the sole purpose for being here…)_

I smile gently at the memory. I can't think of that now. I've made up my mind that I won't see him again.

I try to look on this evening in a different light than the night before. Last time I thought I was in love with someone else. This night I am sure that Simon is my one and only. Do I see him differently now? Or rather, the same as I always have?

I can tell that it's different. It's easier to talk to him now with this weight off of my conscience. Looking into his face, I am able to mimic his emotions without feeling the usual guilt. I _made _this decision by my own, and I'm going to stand by it.

"Oh, that reminds me!" Simon is smiling, rubbing his smooth thumb across my fingers. "Whatever happened to that man that you had me meet by the lake that day, the one that rescued you? Christian, was it?"

Had he brought that up to taunt me? Did he know? I look up in shock, but Simon's gleaming eyes are friendly and genuinely curious.

"I…" My throat has gone dry, and I stare down at the white lace-fringed tablecloth. "I haven't really kept in touch with him."

"Oh, that's too bad. I was hoping we could invite him to our wedding… It's coming up soon, isn't it?"

"Yes." I look up, and genuine happiness takes over my features. Surely, when I am married to Simon, my full mind will realize that I could never be with anyone else, and I will be left in peace by these taunting thoughts of… him.

End of Chapter 16


	17. Chapter 17

**Hello again! As an apology for leaving you hanging for so long (although I know it doesn't make up for it) this chapter is longer than most. Please enjoy! I'll have the next chapter out soon! **

Chapter 17

I had made the promise to not see Christian again, and I wanted to keep it, oh so much. But somehow, I found myself outside of the bar where I had danced with Christian just a few months prior.

Even as I stood there I admonished myself. Why had I asked the driver to take me into this part of town? There was no use coming here; I was over Christian, so what was the point…?

The building in front of me was just how it had looked the first time: old, worn down by weather, reeking of alcohol and sweat. But from every seam it seemed to gush atmosphere and life, something I had never seen a building do before. From inside I could hear a lively dance start up, and numerous voices yelling above the others.

I was just about to turn on my heel and return to the carriage, explaining that I must have been mistaken, when the door opened, squeaking on its hinges. Christian- oh! how I had missed that face, even though I wish I did not- poked his head out. I opened my eyes wide, taking a step back, but a heartbreakingly sweet smile was already pulled across his face, and he gave out an exclamation.

"Charlotte! I thought it was you through the window! I wasn't sure…" He reached out a hand to clasp mine, but I pulled it away slightly, watching his reaction. His smile dropped for a moment, but it's replaced quickly. "Don't worry, we'll work this out. We love each other, remember?" His convictions send a stab through my heart. He didn't know about my determination to forget about him a few days ago. I had betrayed him with my thoughts, and he didn't even know.

But like a coward, I let him guide me forward into the thick, smoggy insides of the bar, becoming instantly infolded in the sounds and smells. "Yes…"

-.-.-.-

_I'm trapped inside of myself, _I think wonderingly. _Or, more accurately, my wishes, my selfish desires. _I would never have expected myself to return to Christian after my determined vow in my bedroom of how I will stay with Simon. At this moment more than ever, I realized how weak and easily swayed I really was, and it filled me with shame. How can this wishy-washy nature of mine ever insure a secure marriage, a certain love?

And yet… And yet, I couldn't let go of Christian. Before, when I was away from him, I would always have doubts, realizing how silly this whole façade was. But now I began to physically hurt and realize how much I needed him. I fantasized about him, seeing his handsome, soft face in my mind. I missed his arms around me, missed the way he lifted my chin with his gentle hand. It became more solid, this need for him. Before I couldn't name the attraction, but now that I knew him better I began to understand and comprehend the longings.

I knew that this could not go on forever; it was a certain fact, and yet my biased mind continued to shut out these sensible thoughts. I wanted both of my lives; without them, I was afraid that I would crumple into nonexistence, because each of them supported me so completely. Christian was my passion, my will to live. Even though I had a loving fiancé, it was Christian who inflamed me, made me truly live. But how could I live without Simon and, sometimes most dominantly, the security from this marriage? Without strong support I would surely fall into the dismal shame of a ruined future. I couldn't imagine what would happen if Simon left me, and the rumors circulated of my affair… I wasn't even sure if my parents wouldn't disown me. Would my love with Christian _really _be able to sustain me?

I felt wretched even thinking of this. Both Simon and Christian's lives seemed to revolve around me, which made me feel all the worse. Both of them told me of their undying love. And here I was, pondering about which man I could live without.

_How could I have ended up in this situation? _I wonder discontentedly. Most people never find someone to love and be loved by. And now I'm shoved unceremoniously into a situation where Fate is wickedly cackling at me. Oh! but how I wished that I had never removed myself from my childhood, staying forever in my early years where there was nothing more complicated then the pleasure of an adolescent. Now I had responsibilities that I could not handle, hearts that were too heavy for me to hold.

-.-.-.-

The most consistent rendezvous point that Christian and I decided on was the lake. From there, we could walk along the beach, or hide in the small expansion of caves that bordered the lake, beautiful and alluring, with glistening minerals and a soft, secretive air; or perhaps we would shelter in the outreaching woods, winding our way through the grand and awe-inspiring trees that stretched up as if to catch the clouds in their boughs.

Several weeks after I had broken my declaration, Christian and I meet by the lakeside again. The wind is cool and crisp today, and I wrap my light shawl closer around me, feeling my red curls pick up from the buffeting breeze. Christian, suitably dressed for the weather with a coat, simply takes it off from around his shoulders and drapes it over mine. I try to protest, but I know by now that he is much happier when I am warm than when he himself is.

I am unnaturally quiet, looking off into the expanses of the lake. The wind is doing odd things to the waters, lifting up portions and flicking frothy tendrils along the sides. It's entrancing, and I stare at the display instead of at Christian. Beside me he follows suit.

After a moment of quiet contemplation, I open my lips. "My marriage is in two weeks." The statement is flat, but it still gets a reaction out of Christian, a slight shift of his weight.

"So soon…?" He murmurs, bringing a gentle hand up to my cheek. I don't look at him, staring resolutely into the lake. When he leans in to kiss my cheek, I lean away, closing my eyes.

"Please, Christian."

"What do you want me to do, Charlotte? What?"

The words are supposed to hold anger, but they don't. I wish they did. For the past few months I have been waiting for him to snap, for him to say that he can't deal with the way that we're living. Maybe then I could find it within my heart to leave. But all I can hear is anguish, and cold tears sting my cheeks.

I take a deep breath. "Christian… I know that I keep on telling you this, but…" for the first time I look him fully in the eyes. "I can't stay with you."

"Charlotte, don't say that-"

"In two weeks, Christian." I clasp his arm tightly, staring despairingly up into his face. "In two weeks, I'm going to be a married woman."

He closes his eyes now, a look of pain on his face. I can't look away, even though his anguish is burning into me like cold fire. Finally he looks back at me, grasping my hands in his.

"Run away with me, Charlotte." The determination in his usually soft face scares me almost as much as his words.

"W-what…?" I whisper. The image of his proposition is too frightening to think of. "No, Christian, I can't-"

"Why not, Charlotte? You love me, and I love you. That's all we need! I promise you, I will always keep you safe!"

"No!" I shout, before realizing what I'm doing. Already images are flooding my mind, of living with Christian in some hovel, eating soup and vegetables every day, being dirty…

My exclamation shocks Christian, as he stares at me with surprise in his eyes. After a moment, it seems to all click in his mind, revealing my thoughts and wishes.

"Christian, I-"

"No. Don't- Don't…" He brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, covering his face, and dread drenches my heart when I realizing that he's keeping back a cold laugh. "I… I didn't know what I expected, from you. From f-falling in love with a noble…" He takes a deep breath, and I realize that his laughter is covering up a light sob.

"No…"

"Please, you don't have to say anything." He removes his hand now, and my heart breaks at the determined smile that doesn't reach his wet eyes. "I knew it all along… In the end, you could never choose living with me."

"Please…." I take his hand in mine, leaning against him and feeling tears of my own trickle down my cheeks. "I l-love you…"

He shivers, but I know it's not just the cold. Slowly, he brings his hand up to cup my face, and looking up, I catch the anguish in his eyes before he kisses me gently. I lean into it, feeling the desperation barely hidden beneath.

"I…" What am I doing? Both of us know that I'm too selfish to live a life of squalor. But I know that more than he does, and yet I'm still bringing him forward, tempting him?

"I can't." I pull away, feeling a heavy weight fall with the loss of contact. Quickly I turn away, and before I can hurt him any further, I pick up my skirts and dart away up the hill, closing my eyes to the tears overflowing them.

-.-.-.-

I barely make it into the carriage before breaking down. I wipe my face desperately with my hands, choking back tears. Looking up to the window separating me and the driver, I can see his eyes glancing back at me. It's Tom, one of our oldest drivers, who I've known since I was young.

"Please… Take me home, Tom." I try to say it calmly, shamed to be crying in anyone's presence. His eyes are soft, and after a moment, he turns back to the front.

"Yes, my lady." I can feel the carriage lurch forward beneath me, and with the motion my gut-wrenching sobs start up again, barely covered by my attempts of silence.

I wish that it took longer to return to my home than it did. I had only just gotten a hold of myself and started to clean myself up before the carriage stopped short, and Tom tapped on the glass, his muffled words of "we're here" sending some unknown feeling of regret through my frame. I sniff and compose myself quietly, before Tom opens the door for me and I shakily walk out.

On the ride, while trying to control my sobs, I decided: I would tell Simon that I wanted to bring the wedding to a sooner date, and to have it somewhere further away. It was hard, but I knew I couldn't stay any longer in my house, so close to where Christian lived. It would only tempt me, make me fall back in his arms. And I couldn't have this happen; Christian was already damaged enough. I needed to do this, for him.

I quickly walk up the stairs to my room, immensely relieved that I encounter no one. Checking myself in the bathroom and making sure that nothing is out of the ordinary, I then return down the stairs and walk to where Tom is still waiting with the carriage.

"To Harrisburg, please," I whisper, tucking myself again into the soft darkened interior.

-.-.-.-

Simon's estate is a dreamy paradise. As soon as I see it I smile, remembering when I first came upon the beautiful gardens, the artful statues and fountains, the majestic brick buildings that branch off and seem to welcome with their benevolent arms. I have to look out of the window just so that I can watch as I pass through the beautiful curved-iron gates.

Once inside his property I try to hold down the feeling of nervousness that envelopes me, reminding myself that this is my fiancé's home. Soon it would be my own. Soon, so very soon, I will be free from these secrets that wrap themselves around me. I know that I must tell him everything, but still anxiety claws at me, worried for what will come. Will he break off the marriage? Will I be left, ruined, as he looks on me with contempt?

I am let off in front of the main doors that glisten in the noon sunlight, shivering from the still-cold winds that threaten to chill me to the core. Slowly and gracefully I walk up the stone steps, nodding at the men who quickly open the doors for me and hurrying inside so they can close it and keep the heat inside.

"Lady Heatherford, to see Duke Trinton," I murmur to the guard standing beside the door, but already I can hear approaching footsteps. Looking up, I am met by Simon's gaze, and something falls in my stomach. There's something about his glance that disturbs me.

"Good after-noon, Charlotte," he says, holding a hand in the direction of the sitting room. "Please, come in."

I hesitantly walk in the direction he has indicated, already knowing the path by heart. Once inside the room, I turn to see that Simon has followed, and is currently closing the door softly behind him. Once he turns around, I pick up on something that I hadn't noticed before: his cheeks are flushed, as if he has just come from outside.

"What have you come to me for, Charlotte?"

End of Chapter 17


	18. Chapter 18

**Hi again! So, in this chapter, I ended up putting a little bit of history that even I hadn't known until I was typing it. Maybe it'll make Christian's character a little rounder? Or at least make him seem more awesome :p **

**Also, there's some speaking in French in here, but because it'd be pretty annoying if you don't know what it means, I'll just keep it in English. :) enjoy!**

Chapter 18

_Christian_

_ He hated this._

_ He hated not knowing where she was, knowing who she was with._

His_ darling…. he closed his eyes to the thoughts, wishing that it was that simple; if only the shutting of lids would block out the rays of pain like a thick curtain. To his utter despair it only intensified, and he quickly blinked, shaking his head._

_ He has to be strong for her. Every time he looked at her, he could see the pain etching its way over her face, leaving creases and deposits like some kind of emotional glacier. And like a glacier, an imprint is left in its wake. How much would she be changed by this pain?_

_ In some ways he wanted something to be left behind. Maybe it was selfish, but he want her to remember him. Their conversation tonight showed that she would never accept him, and they both know it. He had been fooling myself from the beginning; he knew better. This was not a fairy tale, and it would not have an ending alike to one, at least not for him._

_ She would move on, marry the Duke, live a pleasant and utterly peaceful life. Have children, raise them, grow old with them. In the end, die. _

_ And he wouldn't be there. _

_ What, then? Would she simply forget his existence? Unconsciously, he leaned up against the bark of a tree, painful daydreams taking over his head. After her marriage, would she completely forget about their affair? (Oh, it was so much more than that to him!)_

"I l-love you…"

_ A betraying tingle of hope tickled his throat, but he forced it down with a swallow. Yes, he believed that she loved him. That made her decision all the more painful for the both of them. She loved him, and yet she still was able to let go? She loved him… She couldn't forget that love so easily, could she? He didn't think he ever would._

_ And yet… And yet, in this situation, what should he do? He knew the answer, and for a moment he was transported back to a lavish sitting room, sitting on his knees on a mat before a tall, elegant wing-backed chair. Inside his mother smiled down on him._

_ She was his image of benevolence; her voluptuous features only seemed to intensify this aspect. Her almond-shaped eyes, always lined and elegant, sparkled with a powerful gleam reserved for when she looked into Christian's own. She had pale golden curls that she usually swept up on top of her head, but the occasional wisp often slipped by and clung to her throat. Her full lips always drew up into a glorious smile, and her slender fingers were the most motherly touch he could imagine against his face._

_ Around her neck a jeweled necklace hung down, weighed down by blue stones that he didn't know the name of. The same stones dripped from her ears. Her dress was delicately laced and swathed around her in a billowing, welcoming cloud._

_ "My little Christian," she purred in soft, gentle French, and he leaned into the words, smiling. Next to the harsh English words and his father's own gruff accent, this glorious French was the sweetest sound he heard all day. He had learned it along with English, and the words were readily supplied in his mind to reply._

_ "What story will you tell me today?" He leaned in eagerly, waiting for his mother's response. He loved her stories. She always had a new one to tell him if he asked, and he knew she was a natural storyteller. She laughed at his eager words._

_ "Another one? Aren't you a little old for silly stories?" He looked crestfallen, which only made her laugh more, a tinkling, gentle sound. "All right. Let me think of one."_

_ She brought a delicate finger up to dramatically tap her lips, pretending to have difficulty in coming up with a story. He knew that she was teasing; she never had a problem finding something to weave into a captivating tale._

_ "I've got one!" Her eyes lit up in glee, and he laughed as she leaned down and rubbed his cheek. "This one takes place in India. Do you know where that is?"_

_ "We learned that in school! It's a huge territory owned by England, right?" He was happy to have this knowledge, able to show that he was competent to his mother._

_ "Very good!" Her eyes gleamed with genuine happiness, and he nearly burst with pride. "I always knew you were wonderful… And always will. You will have a bright future, I know it." She closed her eyes and smiled widely at him, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead before coming up and beginning her story._

_ "This story starts with a… sitar-player. A… stringed instrument? Yes?" Christian smiles, encouraging her to go on. "He was poor, but he was very, very happy, because he knew that he had life, and that he could make of it whatever he wished." She smiled. "He had a good outlook on life. Always keep that in mind, Christian." He nodded and smiled. She would always add morals to the stories that she told, and in the end, these were the pieces that stuck out the most to him._

_ "The sitar-player knew that many amazing things would happen in his life, and it would be filled with events, and friendships, and lovers." She looked down at Christian, but he didn't seem to respond to the last word, which made her smile. "And he was right._

_ "He had been informed by a friend of his that a play was opening, and his heart leapt at the idea of starring in it. And so, eager to prove himself to the world and to fill his empty cup as he had always wished, he decided to try out."_

_ "Is India like England?" Christian asked innocently. At this his mother pursed her ruby lips in a chagrined smile._

_ "I do not know. I have never been. I hope to. But that is one of the wondrous traits of storytelling: you can make things up! Now, let me continue on, or I will never finish._

_ "The part was that of a Maharaja, who is the ruler in India. And so he dressed up for the part. He borrowed the clothes from a friend of a friend," she added, smiling at his questioning gaze. He always liked to have a story sound as truthful as possible, and his mother obliged. _

_ "While waiting around for his audition, however, Fate fell into the man's hands." She spread her own out to emphasize the fact. "Just as he was about to audition, a woman turned the corner, a woman more beautiful than any in all of India."_

_ "Like you?" Christian asked, and she laughed._

_ "Hmm, you could say. She was the sparkling diamond of the town, and attracted every man within it with her looks and charming nature. However, she was a courtesan, which meant that-" she paused, looking again to the patiently waiting child. "Well, let's just say that she was not free, and was always having to follow men's orders."_

_ "That's not nice." His gentle, childish brow furrowed._

_ "No, it isn't. And she wasn't happy. But she couldn't show that to anybody, and so she hid it all to herself." Mother was quiet for a moment, her sharp eyes softening. "She had just been asked to entertain the visiting Maharaja. As the young man was dressed as one, once she saw him she believed him to be the one she was to… perform for._

_ "Upon seeing the woman, however, the man fell in love immediately. It was as if he had been shot through the heart, the flaming pain of his love was so intense."_

_ "Have you ever felt that?" Christian's eyes were wide in awe, trying to imagine such a destructive event._

_ "Of course I have! It was the same when I first saw your father." The soft, sweet smile was back on her lightly creamy cheeks. _

_ "But… but that's terrible! Isn't it? To be so controlled?" _

_ "Oh, it can be, especially if the other person does not share your feelings. But it can also be the most beautiful thing in the world." Christian looked suspicious, so she laughed and commented, "Maybe you don't want me to finish the story?"_

_ "No!" His sharp yell was reason enough for her to continue once more._

_ "He knew that he must talk to her somehow. And, what amazing luck! She was walking straight towards him, and with a knowing gleam in her eye!_

_ "Absorbed in the very sight of her, the sitar-player decided that he must profess his love. And so… he sang to her." A dreamy look took over his mother's face. "It was a glorious song, and all the while the courtesan realized that she, in fact, was in _love _with this Maharaja- she was in love for the first time in her life._

_ And so when he finished, she told him so- but in doing so, she used the name she believed him to have- and the game was up."_

_ "Oh no!" Christian whispered, transfixed on his mother's words. "What happened?"_

_ "Well, the sitar-player set her straight, and at his words the courtesan felt a sharp stab of pain run through her heart- the man that she had just fallen in love with was a penniless sitar-player!_

_ She pulled away and ran from the man she loved, heart breaking all the more. On the way back to her home she met the true Maharaja, and he was lured immediately by her beauty. And so two men had fallen in love with her in the same night, but only one held her heart."_

_ "What happened then?"_

_ "The courtesan tried to stay away from the sitar-player, but her longing for him was too strong. You will know the feeling one day, Christian- such a pull, that you can not be away from the one you love."_

_ "Eew!" He loved his mother's stories, but sometimes her life lessons would apply to him too far in the future. "No way!" She only responded with an amused smile._

_ "You will. But while she was seeing the sitar-player, the Maharaja also longed for her attention- and so she was forced to hide her love for the sitar player, instead showing affection for the man who held her with money and chains._

_ "The pressure… for both of them… was extreme. Always hiding their true feelings, longing to be with the other… The sitar-player had to watch as, day after day, she would run off to the Maharaja, kissing _him _when really she belonged to the sitar-player. It nearly killed him every time she left. But he knew that it was hurting her as well."_

_ "But…. B-but why didn't they just run away? Wouldn't that solve everything?"_

_ "The sitar-player mentioned this to the courtesan, but she refused. You see, she could not live that kind of life. She would have been enveloped with unhappiness. And so they had a decision."_

_ Christian blinked up at his mother, trying to figure out what they would decide. "What was it?"_

_ At that moment, Christian's father walked into the room, eyes sparkling with inner laughter. "Madeleine, what _are _you filling our child's head with?"_

_ "Gregory." Gracefully lifting from the chair, my mother flitted over to my father, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. "Only stories about love."_

_ "He's too young to understand things like that." But even as he said that, my father was laughing, smiling adoringly into my mother's eyes. Looking at the two of them, I finally understood what that term, _love_, meant. It was right in front of me._

_ "But, but, mama…" We had reverted back to English with my father in the room, and the sharp contrast made my words all the more pestering. "How does the story end?"_

_ She turns to me, a serious look for once alighting in her face. "You must decide that, Christian. Do you think that the sitar-player would continue the charade until the very end? Would he force the courtesan to run away with him? Or," and here a sadness that he did not understand filled her liquid-blue eyes, "would he let her go?"_

_ He sat silent, and after a few moments his parents left the room. He could hear them laughing in the other room, and then some soft murmurs. His mind was trapped in his mother's question: What would the sitar-player do? After a moment's thought, he realized that he was trying to figure out what his mother would want the sitar-player to do. And he knew the answer._

_ Coming back to his current situation, Christian realized that he had pounded his fist against the side of a tree, the pain only just now registering. Grunting, he pulled his hand away, but inside he was dying. Because he knew what his mother would want him to do._

_ He had to let her go. The one thing he could do for her was release her from this pain._

_End of Chapter 18_


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Charlotte

I notice too late the slightly dangerous look in Simon's eyes as I glance at his face. Looking again at his cheeks, I see that he must have just come inside from the cold, from the way the pink was still splotched across his skin as if he had just pinched. I scrutinize his face, and my eyes pick up on some red marks around his eyes where he might have been rubbing a hand back and forth.

He repeats his question. "Do you have something to say?"

My mouth has gone dry. It feels as if I'm sinking down into the floor below me, and a small voice is whispering in my inner ear. _He knows._

"I…" I swipe my tongue across my lips, feeling the useless urge to cry. "I wanted to talk about the marriage…"

A look of anguish washes across his face. "So have you finally come to break off the engagement to my face?" Every crease and crevice of his face is imbedded with pain.

I take in a sharp breath at his words, knowing already that I had been discovered, but still hurting from the utter betrayal emanating from his voice. His utter being is bitterly anguished, and he shakes his head softly, gently, as I try to touch his face.

"Don't… Charlotte, don't." He looks me straight in the eye, and suddenly I'm a child all over again, looking up to the wiser eyes of an adult. I'm a little girl playing dress up. Simon is real, alive, so solidly in front of me. This is the real world, and I was just playing make believe.

"I'm so sorry…" I whisper, wide eyes unable to look anywhere but his face. He laughs bitterly, making me wince.

"I should have known, but for some reason… For some reason it had never occurred to me that you were lying, that you didn't love me anymore."

"But I wasn't lying! I still – "

"Don't tell me you weren't lying!" He yelled, and I stepped back, closing my eyes to the sharp tears. Here came the anger.

"You've been hiding from me for- how long now, Charlotte? Weeks? Months? I have no idea! Because I believed you all those times that you told me that you loved me! I believed you, because I thought I would always be able to trust you!"

"Please…" I whisper, moist, stinging tears running down my cheeks. I don't know what else to say.

"And now you stand before me, after I had to find out myself- do you know how that feels, Charlotte, to be out walking by the lake and see _your _fiancé kissing another? You didn't even have the _decency _to tell me-" And here he spat, and I flinch away, almost expecting venom.

"But instead of at least standing your ground, you cry and ask me for forgiveness? I had thought- in the root of my turmoil, I had thought - that you would have at least _given me up _for someone worth fighting for. I expected you to show some defiance, not-" and here he waved a hand in my general direction disgustedly, which made me cry harder, because everything he was saying was true. I was bent over with my unattractive sobbing, covering my face with my chilled hands, wishing to be dead.

I had not told Simon, until it was too late and he was exposed to it by the worst way possible. And now all I could do was cry, not even trying to defend myself. I was a weak child, lost in the depths of anguish and confusion that I had no right sticking my feet in. Simon was my protector, and in return- in return, I had hurt him in a way that no one else could.

"S-S-Simon," I sob, trying angrily to force the tears out of my voice. "I still l-love you…."

"Do you?" He asks, and it's a cold murmur. His eyes are just as chilled, hard flint against his soft, tanned skin.

"I do… I do…."

"Now you lie to me, Charlotte? Do you think your past lies were not enough, do I need more? Please, Charlotte, please tell me what I have done to deserve this punishment!"

"I'm n-not l-lying…." I whisper, looking tearfully up into his face. "I n-never lied about t-that…. I've always loved you."

He looks down at me with an emotionless face, and inside I've already begun to die. That face, that had always held such compassion for me, that loved me no matter what I did, was now so empty of _anything_. Without that face, I was nothing. I was gone.

After several moments, he reaches out a hand to hold my elbow. "Here, Charlotte. Take a seat." He leads me gently to one of the wing-backed chairs, where I collapse like a soiled tissue, eyes never leaving Simon's face. He leans up against the wall across from me, arms across his chest, frowning.

"You know, Charlotte, I never would have imagined it ending this way." I kept back a choked sob at the word _ended. _"Not that I really thought much about the end. Silly, simple I, believing that it would last forever." He let out a harsh laugh, but it was not aimed at me. It was on himself. "But when I did, I never imagined you to behave the way you have- dismally complacent to the whole thing, I mean. I thought you would go to the very end, kicking and screaming." He looks me over, frowning to himself. I can only await his sentence, staring up into his face, watching to see if he has any compassion left. But do I want compassion, really? In a way this is what I wanted- someone to berate me, push me to see the obvious- I had been playing a fool's game, dancing on the edge of insanity. I had been dangling my feet over the edge.

He gives a deep sigh, and the next words out of his mouth are a complete shock. "I still love you, Charlotte." I am undoubtedly staring up at him with my mouth agape, but he either takes no notice or does not care. "I can try to not love you, but I believe… I believe that doing so would destroy me." He looks into my eyes, and now I can see the wretchedness lying there. It makes me want to hide all the more. But hiding is not all that I long for; I wish I could kill myself, a long, miserable death, worth the look in Simon's eye. How one could ever accomplish such a death, I do not know.

Looking into his face, I realize that he is waiting for an answer, and then I muse on what I should say. My heart longs for me to scream _yes, I love you! Please, take me back!, _but in the depths of my being I realize that doing so will endanger Simon. His heart is pure and good, now with a savage tear down the middle where my betrayal had ripped. He is too good, in fact, to let go of the love that I had given to him- and here is where the injustice is strongest, for he is willing even to let this _thing, _this indefinably wretched monster, back into his torn heart. He will never be able to trust the creature again- always living in uncertainty with the one he should trust above all others- and yet- and yet he is still willing?

Instead of answering immediately, I solemnly ask, "why?"

He seems saddened by my response, and I immediately feel a stab of guilt. "I love you," he murmurs, softly. "I can't let you go. You're everything to me, and without you-" he takes a sharp breath, wincing. "Even if it's against my better judgment, without you I am nothing. I need you." He desperately searches my face for a response, and I am reminded again of my sin. Simon should never feel desperation in any form. Simon is good. Simon does not deserve this.

Determining that any further silence will only lead to uncertainty and pain, I answer. "I can think of no better way to spend my life," I whisper, refusing to let the pain enter my features, "then to be with you, forever."

_Christian_

"_Forget it, mate." William's firm, warm hand rests roughly against Christian's shoulder, grasping it in a rough grip. "You know it's not worth i'."_

_He refuses to look into the man's face, instead downing the ale in the mug before him. Disgusted with the taste, he carelessly sets it against the grainy bar of the tavern, bringing up a hand to run through his hair wretchedly. Groaning, Christian bent into the fiercely sturdy counter, wishing he could wipe away the painful headache that was starting to prickle at the back of his brow._

"_I'm telling you, Christian, you're better off without the girlie. I knew she wa' trouble the mo' she came in here, I did." William is continuing to babble clumsy condolences, and Christian doesn't have the heart or the will to listen. Instead, he stares into the amber liquid, remembering bejeweled skirts, auburn curls, crinkled eyebrows…_

"_I know I should forget, alright, William?" He finally turns to the man, hinting at the anger under the surface. Thankfully, however, William knows that it is not for himself, and backs away with a small grimace on his face._

"_I hate seeing you like this." Closing his eyes, Christian can only see _her _in his mind, smiling, laughing, belonging near him. She was his, and his alone- but no, that wasn't true. Because hadn't she just given him up for another man?_

_Laughing harshly, he opens his eyes again, turning away from the bar and climbing out of the stool, looking dazedly around the rest of the tavern. The dank, dark lighting does nothing to help his coordination; taking in a sharp breath, he barely avoids swaggering into a nearby table. He waves a hand in apology._

"_Christian, get a hol' o' youself! You're stronger than this!" William's helping hand is now positioned under his elbow, but he shrugs it away, glaring at the unnecessary tears stinging his eyes. He shakes his head and looks for his mug of ale._

"_She…" He hates the slight stutter in his words, and forces them away. "She was everything to me…" _

"_I know." _

"_And now…" His expression is hinted at anger now. "Now… He has her. She's his."_

_As if he can think of nothing else to say, William backs down, staring at the desolate Christian. Without even thinking about it, his lips begin to move, and a strangled voice that he can hardly recognize as his own breaks the suddenly still silence of the tavern._

"_His eyes…" He sighs deeply. "Upon your face… His hand, upon your hand…"_

_The rest of the tavern is watching._

"_His lips, caress your skin…" He closes his eyes, and it is all too easy to see the scene enfolding in his mind: Charlotte, the woman that he can not live without, running into the arms of the man he met that one day so long ago at the lake, letting him kiss her, put a ring on her finger…_

"_It's more than I… can… stand…" He whispers, feeling the unshed tears brim up behind his eyelids. The absurdness of the entire situation is sinking in, and he turns away, from what he can't be sure. Trying to wipe away the images dancing around his head, he passes a hand over his face, sharp fingers digging into his cheeks. Quickly switching to anger and anguish, he opens his eyes once more, warm fire burning deeply._

"_Why does my heart cry?" He sings, but he can't hear the words; his heart is thumping too deeply in his ears. Somewhere nearby the violinist joins in, and he doesn't have the patience to pay attention to the others. "Feelings I can't fight!" He moans into his hand, gritting his teeth, begging his mind to let him go._

"_You're free to leave me, but just deceive me…" And there he realizes his largest problem: he doesn't know if she will return this time. All of this time, she was playing a game of tug-of-war, with Simon and himself on either side. And now, he doesn't even know if she will come back. He longs for her touch, but he knows that she will always leave again._

"_And please, believe me when I say, I love you!" _

_He buries his head in his hands, slouching against the bar top, losing himself to the misery. _

_End of Chapter 19_

Hello again readers! So, I don't know if any of you remember William, but he played a minor role in one of the beginning chapters.

I hope that you're enjoying the story this far. I don't have many chapters left; I hope to finish the story this month (fingers crossed! ^.^), so be on the lookout for that! I've started a daily regimen of writing, and hopefully this will keep me focused on FINISHING!

Thanks again for reading, and _there's _the end of my longwinded author's note!


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

_Christian_

_Somehow, from the dreamily unconscious sleeping of the night before, Christian had decided to see _her_. It hurt his pride, actually, when he thought about it. He imagined that he looked a bit like a man crawling back on his stomach to beg for forgiveness. But he didn't want that. He wanted the truth. Did she love him? Had she ever?_

_And so he returned. _

_It felt so wrong this time around, though. He remembered the first night he had crept into this very property, skirting the house and hiding within the sweetly sullen enclosure of the trees. Everything had seemed sweet that night: the gentle spring air, alive even at night with the green smells; the softly blissful stirrings of the trees, brushing against each other for warm embraces; the hum of crickets, early in the season but well appreciated for stirring the condensed night air with their simplistic singing._

_And yet now, as he looked around him with different eyes, nothing seemed the same. The tree's movements, instead of seeming gay and happy, now held a brush of melancholy that he had missed before. The crickets were irritating in their incessant buzz. Even the house was changed: its formerly welcoming lawns and glorious gardens were shadowed and hazy in the surprisingly hot night air, and the mansion's ivy, so beautifully draped around the spiraled pillars, now seemed extremely fake, just like the home's inhabitants._

_Christian was unhappily brought back to memories he had tried not to dwell on. In his mind's eye he saw it all once more: his father's sickening face, limp in pale illness; his figure, now stiff in death, enclosed in an ebony coffin; his mother's growingly frantic motions of trying to keep the estate together, fighting off the pain in her heart; her eventual death of a broken heart, lying defeated in the parlor as he cried. He was nine. If he thought about it he was lucky; at any later age, he guessed, he would not have been able to acclimate to the life of the lower class. As it were, the humble funds that had been left behind from his mother's unsuccessful tries at rebuilding their fortune did not hold him for long, and there was no one to raise him after it was gone- he had no family. And so he had to grow accustomed to this new life, new challenges. But he hadn't regretted it so much as he did now._

To think_, he thought bitterly_, to think that I would have the possibility of marrying her, if only my parents had not died. She would have loved me if I was a noble. _He_ _had to hold back a weakened lurch at the senselessness of it all, the simple, horribly plain reality._

_

* * *

_

_Just like before, he threw up a stone to her window. It was small, and cold in his hands. After several moments, her fa__ce appeared, framed in auburn curls. There was no happiness in the sight of her for him now. The only thing brought about by her pale, ghostly face against her deeply amber locks was pain._

_"Come down," he murmured, but he knew that she would understand. Her face disappeared. He was surprised that she didn't need more persuasion, but at the same time he knew that she would come willingly. The finality of this act was palpable in the air around him, suffocating him._

_After several minutes he saw her crossing the dewed lawn, wearing the same night dress that she had worn the first time he had come. Her face was solemn and serious. His last hesitations fell out beneath him as he walked forward to meet her, but these were not the same as last time- this time, his choice was on whether to flee, to leave all of this confrontation behind. He knew he could not. _

_"Christian." Her voice was shallow and sweet, and if he delved into the familiar tones he could pick out the hints of bitterness sprinkled in like grains of pepper. "You shouldn't be here."_

_"You know as well as I that I cannot stay away." He winced at the words that left his mouth; they were not the ones that he wished to say. Somehow these words had escaped him._

_"I was thinking…" Before he could speak again, Charlotte had moved closer, her face pulled together in a tight frown, as if she was contemplating over something. He moved closer as well- any closer, and he could have touched the skin of her arm…_

_"Christian, I don't think it could have ever worked out. We're too young."_

_"Too- too young?" Of all of the things that he purposed her saying, this was not one of them. "That's absurd! Charlotte-"_

_"No, Christian. Hear me out. Have you seen the way that we've been acting? It's silly" -he winced at the word- "and dramatized. We never let it play out. Have you noticed this, Christian? It happened too quickly! We didn't even get a chance to work things out, before- before…"_

_"Before we fell in love?" His voice was stained with cold ice. "I loved you, Charlotte! I always have, and I told you that!"_

_"Well maybe you shouldn't have!" Her voice had risen to a shrill cry, but she quickly calmed down. "I do not mean to cause emotional harm. I want to leave this… correctly." His heart falters. _

_"Christian, Simon and I… We have decided to move the wedding sooner. It is to be the day after tomorrow. And-" Here her determined eyes fled from his face to the ground, leaving him to sink under the overwhelming depression. "And we are going to have it in Shallowbridge. Simon has family that lives there; they will be happy to host the wedding."_

_Wedding. The word sounds hollow to Christian's ears, and he is sure that it does to Charlotte's as well. This was it. The end._

_Suddenly he realized that when he came here he was not prepared for this, even though he told himself he was. He could never be prepared. Her declaration- so final!- finally brought it all together. He felt like slumping against the nearest tree and never rising again. Instead, Christian raised his head, and smiled._

_"I am happy for you." He had to do this. He had to… "I wish you the best for this marriage."_

_She looks into his face, eyes warily resolute, final. "I ask that you do not come to the wedding."_

_"I… would not have dreamed of it." And then, before he can make a fool of himself in front of the woman that he loved, he walks away._

_End of Chapter 20_

**I know, I know, I'm sorry it's so short. Hopefully the next is longer, but I doubt that it will be by much; the last few chapters that I've planned out seem to have relatively small amounts of action/conflict in them.**

**I can't believe I'm saying that. The last chapters… I really should stop, anyway. No use giving away anything by the length of the story. It's just so amazing to me! I've only finished one story before this, and I have a crazy amount that are all in varying stages of malnourishment. Look on my profile to see how many- you'll cry. Anyways, I'm going to focus on this as much as possible. Still trying on the once a week strategy, but no promises.**

**I am thankful to all who have reviewed, of course. Not really going into more about that, since I think you guys know how much a review can matter, and I'm thankful for each and every one.**

**Um… Oh yeah. I probably did a bad job of this, but I was trying to show without telling that he was from a wealthy family. Whoops. So anyways, I straightened that out in this chapter, so you can see how SAD it is! Haha, I get it. It's only sad in my mind. XD**

**And…. This author's note is half as long as the actual chapter. I'**


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